


Cristiãn 2: The Vampire Agent

by Horatio_Jaxx



Series: The Cassidy Tremaine Chronicles [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 39
Words: 136,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28638519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horatio_Jaxx/pseuds/Horatio_Jaxx
Summary: In “Cristiãn 1” ancient vampires dug up from the past plotted to infest New York City with an army of blood sucking immortals. Detective Cassidy Tremaine managed to thwart their plans despite being spellbound to the vampire Cristiãn. A month later she believes her vampire problems are over, but she is wrong. Now she must deal with the newborns.No one chooses to go through eternity alone.
Series: The Cassidy Tremaine Chronicles [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2098677





	1. Family, Friends and Vampires

It was a pleasant Wednesday June in New York City. By mid-day, the temperature was in the upper 70's, tufts of bright white clouds drifted across a light blue sky and a soft breeze washed through the city. The crowd of people who were attending the NYPD Medal Day Ceremony at One Police Plaza enjoyed the weather as they watched dozens of police officers receive honors for their successes and heroism. One of the officers being commended was Detective Cassidy Tremaine.

Attired in her dress blues, Cassidy went up on the stage to be honored for her work in the Greenbelt Nine investigation. In addition to her commendation, she was rewarded earlier with a promotion to Detective Second Grade. The successful conclusion of that investigation was a major local news event, and it briefly made Cassidy the most renowned police officer in the NYPD. The sensational crime coupled with Cassidy's shooting of the accused perpetrator in self-defense were major news stories that had only recently subsided from the collective consciousness of the city's inhabitants.

What was not known to nearly everyone was that Cassidy had help in resolving the Greenbelt Killings case and that the true resolution was a secret that she was keeping from all other humans. The only people who knew the truth of that investigation besides Cassidy were the vampires she was hiding from the world. It was the Vampires of Dacia who helped Cassidy uncover the identity of the killers. In exchange for not revealing their existence, the vampires promised Cassidy they would not kill humans or make any more vampires. Their agreement was less than two months old at the time of today’s ceremony.

“So, how does it feel to be a decorated police officer?” Margaret Tremaine questioned just after giving her daughter a hug.

Cassidy's parents, Margaret and Daniel Tremaine and her children, seven-year-old Cynthia and six-year-old John were the only members of her family in attendance for the ceremony. Cassidy's two brothers, Aaron and Jared, were either at work or preparing to be. Other close relatives missing from this event was a retired NYPD uncle, two NYPD first cousins and an out of state aunt who was once married to a now retired NYPD officer. The job of NYPD police officer was a commonly held profession among Cassidy’s relatives living in New York.

“Feels the same, mom,” Cassidy answered.

Cassidy stepped into her father's embrace while Cynthia and John stood by with looks and smiles that advertised their eagerness for her attention.

“You did good, baby,” Daniel affirmed during his brief hug of Cassidy. “You earned this.”

“Thanks, dad,” Cassidy returned with a pleasant smile.

Cassidy added an extra moment to her father’s hug after hearing his approval. Her profession as a police officer was a perennial conflict between them. Daniel never approved of his daughter’s decision to become a police officer and that disapproval gave Cassidy cause to work all the harder. Their differences notwithstanding, the Tremaines were an affectionate family. Large family dinners during birthdays and holidays were the norm. They came together to celebrate important events in their lives whenever possible. Cassidy’s recognition ceremony did not make the cut only because most of her nearby relations planned to attend the dinner at her parent’s home.

“Come here,” Cassidy encouraged as she reached out for Cynthia and John.

Cassidy’s daughter and son gleefully rushed into her embrace. Cassidy held both up against her person as she leaned down and kissed their foreheads, one after the other.

“How did I do?” Cassidy questioned with a smile.

“You were great, mom,” Cynthia responded excitedly.

“Yeah!” John supported in a sing-song delivery.

Cassidy snuggled her children a little tighter while rocking them back and forth. She was pleased and tickled by the admiration her children were bestowing on her, but any serious thought about the accolades caused her to be embarrassed. Cassidy could not help but think that they would not be giving her a medal if the truth of what happened was known.

“Well, I'm happy you got the commendation and the pay raise, but I wished they’d let you stay at the 32nd,” Margaret gently commented.

“Manhattan South Homicide is a great move for me,” Cassidy promptly validated.

“But the commute is going to make things harder for you at home,” Margaret disputed in a voice laced with worry.

“I'll manage,” Cassidy assured her with optimism.

“It's like I've always said,” Daniel countered. “Trying to have it all doesn't work. You have to choose one thing and commit to it.”

“Dad, I'm not going to have my life decided by the limitations others put on theirs,” Cassidy lectured argumentatively.

Daniel shook his head with a huff as he turned partially away from Cassidy. His frustration was matched by a scowl from Cassidy. In that moment, off to her right, Cassidy saw a shocking and unexpected sight. Margaret was about to say something to diffuse the budding disagreement between her husband and daughter when Cassidy spoke first.

“Excuse me, I—I see someone I need to say hi to. I'll be right back.”

Daniel, Margaret, Cynthia and John gave little attention to Cassidy as she made her way through the crowd of people who were still hanging around just after the ceremony. Daniel and Margaret started talking with each other, and the kids found intrigue in their surroundings. If they had been watching, they would have seen Cassidy work her way to the edge of the gathering to where Ronald and Brooke were standing. _Sorin_ and _Adrianna_ were the names they were given over 2000 years ago in Dacia before they were turned into vampires. The names they were known by now were Ronald Hollis and Brooke Chapman. Cassidy saw them observing her in the distance, and that is what caught her attention. She approached them with a growing fury. It was Cassidy’s hope to never see them again. Their presence here, at her commendation ceremony, while she was in the company of her family, angered her.

Ronald and Brooke watched Cassidy’s approach with smiles while standing in the shadow of a wall. Ronald was wearing an expertly tailored suit and sunglasses. Brooke was wearing an attractive pants suit, a wide brim hat and sunglasses. When Cassidy came to within three steps of arm’s distance, Ronald and Brooke began to applaud her with soft claps of their hands. Cassidy came to a stop after two more steps.

“Congratulations,” Ronald expressed with a modest amount of enthusiasm.

“What are you doing here?” Cassidy questioned as she glowered at Brooke and Ronald.

“We’re here to see you get your well-deserved medal, of course,” Brooke returned with a slight look of amazement.

“I told you to stay away from me and my family,” Cassidy hissed beneath her breathe.

“We didn’t think you really meant that,” Ronald countered as though he was speaking the obvious.

Cassidy’s eyes widened in disbelief that Ronald had just said that. She took a moment to search for the words to express her outrage and was cut off from the process when Brooke began speaking with an inflection of exasperation.

“Okay, before you make a big deal out of this, I need to ask you for a favor.”

The tenor of Brooke’s speech angered Cassidy more than the message. She took a moment to fume at the speaker.

“What do you want?” Cassidy spat out testily.

Brooke reached into her purse, pulled out a folded paper and extended it toward Cassidy. She then gave Cassidy a few seconds to open and examine the document.

“I have a jury summons,” Brooke declared with an intonation of incredulity.

After several seconds of reading, Cassidy refolded the document and extended it back to Brooke.

“So, what about it?” Cassidy bewilderedly asked.

“Get me out of it,” Brooke insisted.

“I don’t work for the county let alone in the commissioner of jurors office,” Cassidy argued back as loudly as she dared.

“Well, there must be something you can do,” Brooke disputed with a half step forward.

Cassidy held her ground, crossed her arms, let out a huff while seething at Brooke. Finally, she took a half step forward so that she could say her next words without raising her voice.

“You want to live like everyone else. Well, this is part of that package.”

Brooke absorbed Cassidy’s words, and then she resigned herself to the inevitable: asking was not going to get her what she wanted.

“Fine,” Brooke declared. “I guess I’ll just have to use other means to get out of it.”

The phrase, ‘other means,’ triggered an alarm in Cassidy’s brain. Her suspicion was that Brooke was talking about using her vampire abilities to do something underhanded.

“You can’t do that,” Cassidy emphatically warned as she inched forward.

Brooke showed no sign that she had given any weight to Cassidy’s warning and began speaking with an air of indifference.

“Can you see me in a courtroom, in the daylight, all day, day after day, with all those blood bags seated around me?”

Cassidy took several seconds to give Brooke an angry glare before speaking.

“Text me the details,” Cassidy commanded with an angry scowl.

Brooke took out her cellphone and photographed the jury summons with a smile. Her expression of triumph angered Cassidy even more than before, and she fumed as Brooke tapped into her phone. A moment later, Cassidy’s phone briefly vibrated. Cassidy took out her phone to note that Brooke’s text had just come in.

“I knew you’d come through for me,” Brooke pleasantly spoke.

“Try not to rot on the way home,” Cassidy sarcastically replied before turning away.

Contrary to myth, Cassidy knew that vampires did not burst into flames in the sunlight. The idea that they did was a corruption of the reality that sunlight is unhealthy to vampires. The corruption was the result of centuries of retelling of the myth that sunlight caused vampires to burst into flames. Cassidy’s recent adventure with vampires taught her that vampires had a lethal sensitivity to sunlight that played out over time. It took the sun an hour, roughly, to produce the first lesion on a vampire’s body. Eight hours in the sun was enough to kill every cell in their bodies. She also knew that frequent intakes of food, especially blood, could produce an equilibrium that sustained their youthful appearance indefinitely when they were in the sun. Ronald and Brooke’s presence at the ceremony told her that they were sufficiently fortified against the effects of the sun for the duration of the event.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“Is he awake?” Charlie Panko asked as he stepped through the front door of Jeremiah Kingston’s home.

“No, not yet,” Jeremiah answered as he closed the door behind Ben Dalby. “Take it to the kitchen.” 

Both Charlie and Ben were carrying multiple grocery bags filled with packaged meat. Jeremiah followed them into the kitchen where he began stuffing his refrigerator with meat. Keeping the refrigerator stocked with meat was a weekly chore that Charlie and Ben started doing the day after their encounter with Detective Cassidy Tremaine.

Charlie Panko and Ben Dalby were Tony McGuire’s enforcers, bodyguards, bill collectors and now grocery shoppers. They did Tony’s bidding, no questions asked. Charlie and Ben tried to kill Cassidy nearly two months earlier on Tony’s orders. Since then they have been serving as Tony’s eyes and ears while he remained hidden in his childhood friend’s guest bedroom.

Tony McGuire was an entrepreneur and a criminal for the whole of his adult life. Stealing cars in his late teens and early twenties generated the startup money for his first automotive repair shop. The chop shop he ran from his late twenties to his early forties produced much of the financing for his used car sales lot and his McGuire’s Lounge, but none of those business ventures gave him the wealth and power he craved. His automotive repair shops and his used car sales lot were modest successes and his lounge could barely stay afloat. Tony was in his mid-forties when he decided to venture into the criminal enterprise of designer drugs.

Jeremiah Kingston was Tony’s partner in crime, on and off. Jeremiah’s strong math skills made him a useful tool when it came down to working the numbers. Their friendship started in high school and was nurtured by their mutual tendency toward making money through criminal enterprises. Several acts of grand theft auto were their first mutual criminal venture. The different paths they took after high school kept them mostly separated over the next ten years. The income Jeremiah accrued as the bookkeeper for Tony’s chop shop provided the money for his own legal business as a general contractor. As the owner/operator of Kingston Renovations LLC, Jeremiah was a moderately successful businessman, but he was not opposed to making tax free money, and working the numbers satisfied that urge while keeping him on the periphery of Tony’s illicit enterprises. When Tony went into the criminal enterprise of producing and selling designer drugs, Jeremiah happily agreed to work the numbers for him. Their joint participation in the designer drug enterprise was now more than a decade old.

“Anything new,” Jeremiah questioned as he shoved meat into his refrigerator.

“Nah, the cops aren’t thinking about Tony,” Charlie answered.

Tony’s reason for hiding from the police was because of his kidnapping and attempted murder of NYPD Detective Cassidy Tremaine. Immediately after this event occurred, Tony went into hiding. At first, he used Jeremiah to keep watch for any indication that the police were looking for him. He feared that Charlie and Ben might be on the wanted list too, they all participated in the kidnapping and attempted murder of Cassidy Tremaine. After three weeks of silence from the NYPD and the local news media, Tony sent out his two henchmen, Charlie and Ben, to canvass the streets for news about any police activity involving him and/or his businesses. Over the whole of this time there had been no news of any police interest in Tony, and he was perplexed by this.

Tony spent many hours contemplating why Cassidy Tremaine did not report his attempt on her life to her superiors. His thoughts settled on three theories: Detective Tremaine was being controlled or manipulated by the Dacia Vampires; Detective Tremaine wanted the Dacia Vampires to turn her into one of them; Detective Tremaine did not want the world to know that the Dacia Vampires existed. Tony knew that either of these reasons mandated that Cassidy did not report the kidnapping and attempted murder, and after a month of nothing, it was clear that one of these possibilities was likely true. At this point, Tony's continued diligence to hiding was primarily motivated by his second reason for hiding.

“He's coming,” Ben spoke up in a hurry.

As Ben was speaking, Jeremiah and Charlie were listening to the sound of movement on the house’s second level. There was only one person that it could be, and they all listened as Tony made his way to the stairwell and then began his descent. Several seconds after leaving the bottom step, Tony appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and continued through to the refrigerator.

“Hey, boss,” Charlie greeted.

Charlie was not sure how he should greet Tony at this time of day. It was always at the start of night when Tony awakened from his twelve-hour sleep. Good morning did not seem appropriate to him, and good night seemed equally unsuitable.

“Any news?” Tony asked as he opened the refrigerator door.

All eyes were fixed on Tony from the moment he appeared in the kitchen doorway. The habit of staring at him started with his transition into a vampire. But the attention he was getting was motivated beyond the fact that they knew he was a vampire. His appearance was drastically different from what it was when he was mortal. Tony McGuire was 62 years old, but since his change into a vampire he looked to be in his mid-twenties. At each first sighting, Charlie, Ben and Jeremiah were reflexively astonished by the look of him. It was Tony’s new appearance that was his second reason for staying out of sight.

“No, boss. There’s nobody looking for you or talking about you. She didn’t report it. She couldn’t have.”

Tony gave little attention to Charlie’s report. He expected to hear what he heard, and his attention was mostly focused on the unwrapping of a rib steak that he had in his hand. Tony had the meat unsheathed in the time it took him to cross the room and seat himself at the kitchen table. He immediately began ripping into the raw meat with his teeth. The toughness of the steak encouraged more aggressive biting which excited a rapid growth of his canines and fingernails to noticeable lengths. The sight of this never failed to amaze Charlie, Ben and Jeremiah. Tony finished consuming a large chunk of meat and then paused to look at Charlie.

“I think it's time I went shopping,” Tony announced with a smile.

“Shopping?” Jeremiah questioned with a frown.

“Yes,” Tony returned as though he was still pondering the decision. “I'm going to need some new clothes,” he continued with a smirk.

Charlie, Ben and Jeremiah required no explanation for that statement. Tony was easily fifty pounds lighter than he was when he was mortal. His drooping clothes was evidence of his once much larger physique.

“Yeah boss,” Charlie agreed with enthusiasm. “You do need new clothes.”

Tony responded to Charlie's concurrence with a smile that was near to a grin before speaking with a sly undertone.

“It's time for some changes.”

Tony turned his attention back to the meat in his hands and made savage bites into it. Charlie and Ben were always intrigued by the sight of Tony eating raw meat, but the event held no fascination for Jeremiah. The sight of Tony devouring raw flesh would eventually nauseate Jeremiah causing him look away for relief.

Jeremiah Kingston was always a slight man in stature. He never had an athletic build or an inclination to participate in sports. The only competition he was interested in was business. Jeremiah was all about making money, and he was not above doing it in a deceitful, dishonest and unethical way. Generally, women thought he was funny looking, which hindered his love life in his teens and early twenties. He saw money as the cure for the deficiency in his sex life and pursued wealth with even more vigor for just that reason. His business success and his large four-bedroom home helped to secure him a trophy wife, but marriage did not confine his sexual appetite and that ended the marriage before the procreation of children. When he was not pursuing one woman to be his wife, Jeremiah entertained his proclivity for prostitutes and doped-up, strung-out women who were either unwilling or unable to repulse his advances. In a word, Jeremiah was a lecher.

“How’s the meat, boss,” Ben queried after a moment of silence.

“It’s cold,” Tony grumbled with meat still in his mouth.

Everyone there knew better than to ask if Tony would like the meat heated. They had learned on day one that the answer to that was decidedly no. Tony always wanted the meat raw even if it was just taken from the refrigerator.

Tony finished eating the meat that was in his mouth and then ripped another bite from the steak. While chewing, Tony gave Ben’s question more thought. By the time he finished swallowing, an addendum to his answer was ready to be voiced.

“That’s another thing that’s going to have to change.”


	2. What's New

The Cavern was a modestly successful, Lower Manhattan nightclub that pandered to a well-to-do crowd that enjoyed the dinner theater venue and had a fetish for mingling with society's flamboyant, outlandish and tawdry. Patrons who complimented to the club’s motif in dress and manner could purchase admittance for a fraction of the price of a table or a booth. The theme of the entertainment within the club was invariably drawn from periods and locations that were suggestive of licentious behavior. Cancan music, Mardi Gras jazz, the Roaring Twenties, Cabaret, Tin Pan Alley and Rock and Roll were common genres of music and entertainment on display within the club. Flamboyant patrons attired in clothing appropriate for the look of the day completed the carnival like atmosphere that attracted its high paying customers.

The furnishings of the club’s interior were given preference over high-tech visuals. There were no video monitors or computerized lighting schemes inside the club. Basic low voltage recessed lighting in the ceiling and mini lamps on the tables were used to illuminate the dining area. Much of the interior was reminiscent of the Victorian era. The main room was comprised of ornate mahogany chairs, booths, tables, bar, stools and paneling. Brass railings and fixtures complimented the rich reddish brown of the wood and Corinthian leather covered the seating in the booths. Even the mini table lamps had a Tiffany look. Opulence was everywhere.

A characteristic feature of The Cavern was the low ceiling in the lobby and the high ceiling in the main room. This feature coupled with the dim lighting gave rise to the sensation that the room was a cavern. The low ceiling in the lobby was a novelty that identified the club, but there was no evidence that it did anything to affect the quantity of the club’s patrons. The interior of the club was a hand-me-down through four separate owners along with the club’s name. Little about the club was changed from its original design, including its entertainment format. The Cavern was a loud and freewheeling party that took place every weekend, and its owner/operator was David Burrell. Two-thousand years earlier, he went by the name _Cristiãn_.

David arrived at The Cavern mid-Friday morning. The job of preparing the club for the evening’s festivities required him to be there for the morning deliveries. As the day moved forward, his employees began trickling in at their assigned times. By 2pm, half of the club’s employees were inside stocking shelves and cleaning the club. David was in his office tabulating supplies and expenses when one of his employees lightly knocked on his open door to get his attention.

“Yes, Cheryl?” David asked looking up.

“There's a Herman Weber and Mia Bauer out here,” Cheryl announced. “They say you know them.”

“Yeah,” David quickly agreed. “Can you show them in for me, Cheryl? Please—thank you.”

David knew that Cheryl was uncomfortable with letting unannounced visitors into the club. The normal practice was for visitors to schedule their comings with David and for him to prepare his staff for their arrival in advance. He knew that these visitors claim of an acquaintance with him was the only reason why Cheryl did not turn them away. David's please and thank you was his way of apologizing to her for this break in protocol.

David did not tell his staff of Herman and Mia's coming because he did not know they were coming. It was a surprise to David that they were in the United States. Minutes earlier he would have thought Herman and Mia were still in Berlin, Germany. The fact that they made an unannounced visit to the United States was a greater concern to David than their visit to his club during off hours. He suspected their presence here was not a casual visit.

“Can we come in?” Mia teasingly asked at the doorway to David’s _(Cristiãn)_ office.

David _(Cristiãn)_ was in the middle of sorting his paperwork away when Mia and Herman stopped outside his office door.

“Come in,” David _(Cristiãn)_ returned as he closed his desk drawer.

Mia stepped through the doorway with Herman following behind. She exuded confidence and poise as she went to one of the two chairs situated in front of David’s _(Cristiãn)_ desk and took a seat. Herman looked equally assured in his manner as he closed the door to the office, then went to the second chair. David _(Cristiãn)_ showed no objection to his door being closed. He watched Herman take a seat and examined their faces before speaking.

“You're a long way from home.”

“Not really,” Herman coolly disputed. “With the transportation of this era we can travel to the far side of the world within hours.”

“And the daylight?” David _(Cristiãn)_ asked, bewildered. “Isn’t it a little early in the day for a visit?”

Herman and Mia were Dacia vampires, the same as David _(Cristiãn)_. Their true ages went beyond two-thousand years. In the area of Eastern Europe that was once known as Dacia, Herman Weber was known as _Stefan_ and Mia Bauer went by the name _Helga_. Daylight was always an inconvenience for all vampires, but never so much that it could not endured for short durations, and this was far truer in the 21st century. Cars, trains and aircraft were excellent at blocking direct exposure.

“What’s a little sun between friends?” _Stefan_ queried with a roguish flair.

After hearing _Stefan_ 's coy reply to his question, David’s _(Cristiãn)_ concern about their presence in New York went up. He was sure that something serious had to be behind their coming. It was not normal for a Dacia Vampire to travel to the country of a vampire friend without giving notice of their coming.

“Why are you here?” David _(Cristiãn)_ challenged flatly.

“We're here to see how things are going, _Cristiãn_ ,” _Helga_ returned nonchalantly.

“It's been more than a month,” David _(Cristiãn)_ countered with a look that said he thought the answer was absurd. “Nothing has changed, at least not on this end.”

Neither _Helga_ nor _Stefan_ were put out by the emotion in David’s _(Cristiãn)_ response. They continued to look on with poker faces.

“So, your Detective Tremaine is still pleased with the deal she made?” _Stefan_ queried after a pause.

David _(Cristiãn)_ gave _Stefan_ a confused look before answering.

“I imagine she is,” David _(Cristiãn)_ returned.

“You imagine?” _Stefan_ quickly challenged.

“I haven't seen Detective Tremaine since the day you last saw her,” David _(Cristiãn)_ defended with an adamant inflection.

_Stefan_ and _Helga_ gave each other brief glances out the corners of their eyes.

“That doesn't sound promising,” _Stefan_ calmly returned with an undertone of suspicion.

David’s _(Cristiãn)_ suspicions about why _Stefan_ and _Helga_ were in New York went up to a new high. He was now sure that there was something amiss that was behind there coming. He wondered what he should say next.

“What does that mean?” David _(Cristiãn)_ questioned with a glare toward _Stefan_.

_Stefan_ considered David’s _(Cristiãn)_ question, but It was _Helga_ who began speaking to it first.

“Why, you're our resource on everything that's going on with Cassidy Tremaine, _Cristiãn_ ,” _Helga_ playfully declared. “If you two aren't even on speaking terms, then we've got nothing,” she finished with a dismayed inflection.

David _(Cristiãn)_ looked from _Helga_ to _Stefan_ repeatedly. He knew that this conversation was going on for too long to be a casual inquiry. There had to be something that was motivating these questions, but he knew from long experience that _Stefan_ and _Helga_ were not going to give him more than what they were willing to share and that his only recourse was to read between the lines.

“What's going on here?” David _(Cristiãn)_ asked. He knew they were not telling him everything. “What are you looking for?” He flatly added.

“We just want to know that Detective Tremaine is happy with the deal she made.” _Helga_ pleasantly returned.

“Why wouldn't she be?” David _(Cristiãn)_ asked in disbelief that he had to say this.

There was a moment of silence between _Stefan_ and _Helga_. They used this time to look at each other and to consider David’s _(Cristiãn)_ question. During the silence, David’s _(Cristiãn)_ thoughts touched upon the idea that _Stefan_ and _Helga_ were thinking of doing Cassidy harm.

“If you're thinking about killing Cassidy, it would be a mistake,” David _(Cristiãn)_ challenged with a scowl.

“Relax, _Cristiãn_ ,” _Stefan_ quickly countered with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “No one said anything about killing Detective Tremaine.”

Once again, David _(Cristiãn)_ studied the faces of the two Dacia Vampires in front of him before asking, “What is it that you're not telling me, _Stefan_?”

“We need to know that Detective Tremaine is not having second thoughts,” _Stefan_ explained in a lecturing tone. “And you're supposed to be our resource for that information,” he sternly finished.

“She chose you as her contact,” _Helga_ promptly spoke up. “And you two aren't even talking,” she added in a bewildered tone.

Suddenly, David _(Cristiãn)_ felt as if he was being scolded for not being a part of Cassidy’s life. It had become plain to him that _Stefan_ and _Helga_ wanted him to develop his relationship with Cassidy, and he suspected that there were others who shared this expectation. The thought that he was being pressured to pursue Cassidy sent David _(Cristiãn)_ into a huff. He was determined to respect the separation that Cassidy was maintaining between them, and he had no intention of being bullied into doing otherwise.

“She'll talk to me when she has something to say,” David _(Cristiãn)_ explained softly.

“It could be too late by then,” _Stefan_ sharply countered.

“Why? What would be too late?” David _(Cristiãn)_ sternly questioned back.

_Helga_ noted that the conversation was on the threshold of erupting into an argument and quickly leaned forward to intercede.

“ _Cristiãn_ , we need you to manage this mortal,” _Helga_ politely urged.

_Helga_ ’s calm tone lured David _(Cristiãn)_ away from his growing anger, and he took a breath before responding to her words.

“ _Helga_ , trying to manage Cassidy would be a mistake,” David _(Cristiãn)_ softly stressed. “There's no telling what she will do when she feels threatened,” he finished with a slight shake of his head.

_Helga_ ’s smile was clear evidence that she was not convinced by David’s _(Cristiãn)_ sincere return.

“ _Cristiãn_ , come on, you're under selling yourself,” _Helga_ countered as she sat back in her chair. “She's an unattached woman, and she's not even immortal,” _Helga_ finished with a smile.

“You underestimated this mortal before,” David _(Cristiãn)_ nearly whispered back.

_Stefan_ became impatient with their exchange and quickly spoke up changing the tone.

“We need to know if and when Detective Tremaine’s position on us changes,” _Stefan_ declared sternly. “Can you do that?”

David _(Cristiãn)_ took a moment to give _Stefan_ a look of warning, and then he spoke in a grave tone of voice.

“You'll know when I know.”

“You're a growing disappointment, _Cristiãn_.” _Stefan_ grumbled.

David _(Cristiãn)_ showed no sign that he was phased by _Stefan’s_ remark and held his stare.

“I'm so sorry that I’m not living up to your hard-hearted standards, _Stefan_ ,” David _(Cristiãn)_ countered.

“We're just looking after our own, _Cristiãn_ ,” _Helga_ softly proclaimed. “That is the pact we made,” she added spitefully.

“As long as we keep our end of the deal, Cassidy will keep hers,” David _(Cristiãn)_ assured them.

_Helga_ and _Stefan_ paused to consider what they should say or do next before getting up from their chairs and starting for the office door. _Stefan_ stopped halfway across the room and looked back to give David _(Cristiãn)_ one last question.

“And we have your word for that?”

David _(Cristiãn)_ delayed answering the question just long enough to rise from his chair. 

“Stay away from Cassidy, _Stefan_ ,” David _(Cristiãn)_ began with finality. “I mean it.”

“Relax,” _Stefan_ returned with a smirk. “If we were here to do harm to your Detective Tremaine, _Cristiãn_ , we wouldn't be talking to you now.”

David _(Cristiãn)_ and _Stefan_ glared at each other for a moment before he turned and started for the door that _Helga_ was now holding open. A few seconds later _Helga_ and _Stefan_ were gone from David’s _(Cristiãn)_ view.


	3. Another Saturday

It was after 3pm Saturday when Tony arrived back inside Jeremiah's home from his shopping spree. The sun had taken its toll on him. The usual youthful sheen to his brown hair was now a dull and faded tan mixed with streaks of gray. His boyish face was aged with light blotches of discoloration, wrinkles, laugh lines, frown lines, crows’ feet, baggy eyes and sunken cheeks. His physique looked as it always did of late, and his demeanor appeared to be unfazed by these changes in his appearance. After entering the front door of the house, he went straight for the raw meat in the kitchen refrigerator. A stunned Jeremiah followed him. This aged and weathered look on Tony was a shocking contrast to the young man that Jeremiah watched leave his home that morning.

Charlie and Ben followed Tony into the house carrying multiple clothing store shopping bags each. They both made their way to the guest room that Tony was staying in and deposited the bags on the bed. After that, they made their way to the kitchen where Jeremiah was watching Tony devour a raw steak with claws and fangs bared. Jeremiah was fascinated by the small changes in Tony's features that kept appearing as he ate.

“Damn, boss!” Ben excitedly exclaimed at first sight of Tony. “Meat does a body good.”

“This cold, bloodless meat sucks,” Tony roared back at Ben.

Ben, Jeremiah and Charlie were alarmed by the suddenness of the outburst and by its deep vibrato.

“Blood?” A confused Ben questioned.

Tony ignored Ben's one-word question and continued ripping into the meat. Charlie and Jeremiah were equally confused by Tony's words. They all thought that the raw meat was satisfying his cravings.

“You want us to get you a live animal?” Charlie asked with a confused expression.

“No, you idiot. Blood. It's sustenance for this body. Raw meat is a decent enough substitute, but blood is the fuel my body wants.” Tony angrily lectured.

“How do you know that?” Jeremiah mildly asked with an inflection of curiosity.

“Because I crave it,” Tony yelled at Jeremiah in anger. “I can smell it. You all reek of blood.”

Jeremiah, Ben and Charlie made startled movements back in response to the fury in Tony's outburst. They did not know what to say in response and stood silent while Tony ate. It was about a minute later when Tony put the last bit of raw meat into his mouth and pushed the foam tray away. He took several more seconds to consume the meat and then sat back in his chair and looked up at Jeremiah, Charlie and Ben.

“Things are going to change, starting today,” Tony announced with enthusiasm.

“Like what, Tony,” Jeremiah asked hesitantly.

“We're going into the cocaine business,” Tony declared.

Charlie and Ben were surprised by that announcement. Jeremiah was alarmed by it, and he promptly began to speak his mind.

“Cocaine?” Jeremiah questioned with a startled inflection. “Cocaine comes with a whole new set of risks.”

“We will deal with the risks,” Tony quickly countered.

“Trafficking in cocaine is a big jump up from making Ecstasy in a basement,” Jeremiah scolded. “You're talking about muscling in on territories controlled by powerful drug lords, and we won't be able to hide from them once we start selling. And the cartel that we buy from will talk. These are some heavy weight mobster that we’ll be pissing off.”

“We're the new heavy weights,” Tony bellowed with defiance. “If they're not us, then they're middleweights at best.”

Tony knew that the police would be the least of their troubles. They would have to muscle their way into markets controlled by organized criminals.

“I'm going to need that building you're renovating,” Tony continued with insistence.

Jeremiah was surprised by Tony’s declaration. He had no doubt that Tony was talking about the commercial building that he was restoring. His plan was to sell the building for a hefty profit after the restoration. The four-story building had a retail area on the first level, apartments on the second and third levels, and a basement. It was a large investment that Jeremiah. The idea of sacrificing it for one of Tony's schemes conflicted with Jeremiah's money-grubbing nature.

“It's temporary,” Tony quickly added, anticipating Jeremiah's concern, “a couple of weeks at the most.”

“Why my building?” Jeremiah protested. “Why not your shop?”

“Because my name could be hot,” Tony growled back. “But nobody knows about you.”

Jeremiah grudgingly acquiesced when it became obvious that Tony was not going to change his mind. His decision was helped by the knowledge that he could survive a two week pause in the work. He was not convinced that a transition into selling cocaine in or near New York City was a smart idea, especially for him. Jeremiah had seen Tony come up with bad ideas before, and he watched them fade out when the facts and figures were laid out in front of him. Jeremiah suspected and hoped that this plan would die the same death.

Jeremiah had spent the whole of his criminal life in Tony’s shadow. He was content with being an aid and resource for many of Tony’s smaller criminal schemes. From his perspective, Tony was a way of getting money quick, easy and tax free. His great concern with this new plan was that he would not be able to remain anonymous. He knew that dealing in cocaine would attract attention from other organized criminal entities and the law enforcement community. He knew that there would be no hiding from either of these groups and that the likelihood of legal and/or violent consequences would be near to 100%. Jeremiah’s preference when it came to crime was to keep it too small to be noticed and to use the money accrued from it to boost his legal enterprises.

“Stop worrying,” Tony continued after a pause. “We’re going to own this city,” he finished with a sinister smile.

“Okay, Tony,” Jeremiah consented with a slightly downtrodden nod.

Jeremiah was not prepared to argue with Tony while he was in this state of mind, and even more so now that he was a vampire. The fact that Tony’s mind was so set on this path was intimidating to Jeremiah, but Charlie and Ben were mildly excited by the plan. Tony was elevated to near superhuman status in their minds. They were eager to rise with him, and they believed that Tony was going to do what he said.

“You two,” Tony called with a look toward Charlie and Ben. “I want you to get Mickey and I want you to setup a meeting with a representative of the Sinaloa Cartel to make a buy. I don't want any of the local crime bosses to know about this. You understand? Tell Mickey that and tell him the sooner the better.”

Charlie and Ben hesitated to move. They were waiting for Tony to give them further instructions. Setting up a meet with a drug cartel representative was a task unlike any that Tony had given them before. In the past, when they were not working as mechanics in Tony’s garage, their duties were collections and enforcement. Negotiating a meeting with a drug cartel representative was way outside of their comfort zone.

“Get out of here,” Tony ordered when Charlie and Ben hesitated a little too long.

Tony watched and listened as Charlie and Ben hurried out of the kitchen and then out of the house. He knew that he had given Charlie and Ben a task that was almost as daunting for them as his kill order on NYPD Detective Cassidy Tremaine had been for them a month earlier. The difference in this situation was that he knew this task would be easy enough to complete with Mickey Nevers help.

Mickey Nevers was a drug dealer that Tony frequently used to sell the Ecstasy that he produced. That kind of association was not unique to Mickey. Tony used many dealers to sell his drugs, but Mickey had a use beyond his clientele list. Mickey knew lots of key people in the illegal drug trade. In the past, Tony went to Mickey to learn the news on the street and the truth behind the news. Tony had no doubt that Mickey would steer Charlie and Ben to someone with a stand-alone connection to the Sinaloa Cartel.

When Tony ordered Charlie and Ben off, there was no anger behind his words. He was simply impatient to get things going. Muscling in on the cocaine trade in New York City was a big part of his plan, but there was nothing so urgent that required them to race out of the house. Tony's impatience was due to a need to get Jeremiah fully onboard with his plan.

“I need you behind me on this, Jerry,” Tony declared as he rose from his chair and stepped away from the table.

Jeremiah denoted no menace in Tony's words or movement. He knew from long experience that Tony compartmentalized information that he shared with his associates. He suspected that Tony was about to speak to him about things he did not want to share with Charlie and Ben, and he had no doubt that he was going to use that information to get him fully onboard with his plan.

“You're talking about going up against some heavyweight crime bosses,” Jeremiah softly disputed. “They're not going to stand by and do nothing while you push cocaine on their turf.”

“I'm the heavyweight here,” Tony calmly countered with a step toward Jeremiah. “I'm the big dog. When I'm done—when we're done, we're going to own this city,” he finished with insistence.

“Tony, we've been together for a long time,” Jeremiah nearly pleaded. “I've always had your back. I've worked the numbers for you; I've made investments in your ventures. When we were kids, we boosted cars together, but we were always too small to attract any heavyweight attention. When you stand out, everybody comes after you. We always knew that. Going into the cocaine business in New York is going to make us stand out big, Tony. There's no hiding from that.”

“We're not hiding, not anymore,” Tony spoke with finality. “Everything has changed, Jerry. Can't you see it? We're on the ground floor of something big—huge. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. Hell, this is the opportunity of a thousand lifetimes. We can't stand back and squander it. We have to act, and we have to act now.”

Jeremiah thought that Tony was drunk with delusions of grandeur. Up until now, he was reluctant to challenge the state of Tony's mind, but he was beginning to see that reason was not going to work.

“You're not a god, Tony,” Jeremiah harshly emphasized. “You CAN be killed; you do know that? This is a bad plan, and you're letting this… condition you have warp your thinking.”

To Jeremiah's surprise, Tony was clearly amused. A smile of satisfaction widened across Tony's face and lingered as Tony took two steps forward.

“I am a god,” Tony whispered from two feet away. “And you can be one too.”

Now Jeremiah was frightened. He froze and stared at Tony for a moment, hoping to see that Tony was not planning to do what he feared. Jeremiah attempted to take a step back, but Tony quickly grabbed him by his shoulders and pulled him to within inches of his face.

“Don’t do this, Tony,” Jeremiah begged.

“I need you all-in on this, Jerry,” Tony insisted with an intense stare. “We’re a team.”

Jeremiah paused just long enough to watch Tony’s canines grow into fangs.

“Tony,” Jeremiah huffed with in terror. “You can’t do this. You… you… you don’t know how.”

“Let’s find out,” Tony returned with a maniacal smile.

Instantly, Tony grabbed Jeremiah’s head and pulled it to one side. He sank his top fangs into Jeremiah’s neck as deep as they would go. With his lips pressed against Jeremiah’s neck, Tony began to suck the blood that was seeping from the wounds. At first, Jeremiah struggle against Tony’s assault. A minute later, his body began involuntarily shaking as his consciousness started to fade. Nearly a minute later, Jeremiah’s body went limp. Tony continued to suck the blood out of the wounds inflicted by his fangs. Blood drooled out from under his lips and streaked down Jeremiah’s neck. Tony was more than two minutes into his feed when he heard Jeremiah’s last heartbeat. He was more than three minutes in when he discontinued his feed and dropped Jeremiah’s body to the floor. With his arms stretched out wide and his head titled up toward the ceiling, Tony began growling with satisfaction. Jeremiah’s blood was the fuel that his body craved. The rush of energy and vitality had him in an instant state of euphoria. Several seconds later, he looked down at Jeremiah as though he had forgotten something, he then knelt beside Jeremiah’s body and pulled his head up into his lap. Tony bit into the fleshy part of his own palm until blood oozed out of the wounds. He then pulled Jeremiah’s head back so that the blood could drip into his mouth. He allowed this to go on for several seconds, and then he scooped Jeremiah up into his arms and carried him off to his bedroom.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

It was Saturday night at The Cavern, and the club was at the height of its festivities when the vampires _Adrianna_ (Brooke Chapman) and _Sorin_ (Ronald Hollis) strolled into the main room. They were well groomed and elegantly attired without being conservative. Several steps into the room, they stopped to look over the crowd of people inside. They noted that booth three was empty and roped off with a reserve sign attached; this was as they expected. Booth three was reserved for them. A waitress saw them and offered to bring them their usual order: a sushi combo platter and sparkling water. Brooke and Ronald declined for the present and asked if they could speak with the manager first. The waitress agreed to check and then called into the manager’s office from the phone at the bar. She got a quick reply of yes before leading Brooke and Ronald to the door of the manager’s office.

“Come in,” David Burrell called out in response to the soft rap at his door.

The door opened and the waitress stepped in followed by Brooke and Ronald. David _(Cristiãn)_ thanked his waitress and she promptly left the office closing the door behind her.

“I hope we haven’t kept everyone waiting,” Ronald announced with overstated gentility.

“No more than usual,” David _(Cristiãn)_ returned with a hint of sarcasm. “Have a seat.”

Seated in front of David’s _(Cristiãn)_ desk were Alexandra Hays and Ryan Sandoval. Two additional chairs were positioned alongside the chairs that Alexandra and Ryan were sitting in. David _(Cristiãn)_ was sitting behind the desk with his arms crossed.

“And we're all here,” Ronald tossed out as he and Brooke moved toward the open seats.

“Everyone except _Stefan_ and _Helga_ ,” David _(Cristiãn)_ returned with a cold edge.

There was a moment of silence after David’s remark _(Cristiãn)_. Everyone seated in front of David deferred to each other a response.

“Well, I'm sure they would have come if you had invited them.” Ronald mischievously returned.

“What are they doing in New York?” David _(Cristiãn)_ asked in a commanding tone.

Once again, there was a pause as the four seated in front of David _(Cristiãn)_ waited for someone to reply.

“They're just checking up on things here, _Cristiãn,_ ” Brooke finally responded in exasperation. “There's nothing sinister about it.”

“If there was nothing sinister going on, then you would have told me that they were coming,” David _(Cristiãn)_ hastily disputed.

“We didn't know they were coming,” Ronald argued back. “It was just as much of a surprise to us as it was to you, _Cristiãn_.”

“Is that true?” David _(Cristiãn)_ questioned, looking toward Ryan and Alexandra.

“We didn't know anything until they showed up at our door,” Alexandra eagerly returned. “Honest.”

In support of Alexandra, Ryan shrugged and said, “they just appeared.”

Ryan and Alexandra were vampires too, and like David _(Cristiãn)_ , _Sorin_ (Ronald) and _Adrianna_ (Brooke), they were all more than two-thousand-years-old. The five of them were denizens of the territory that was known as Dacia when most of Europe was under the rule of the Roman Empire. During that time, Ryan and Alexandra went by the names _Radu_ and _Flavia_.

“There has to be more to it,” David _(Cristiãn)_ pondered aloud after a moment of thought. “All they had to do was call if they just wanted an update.”

Silence was the reaction from the other side of the desk; David _(Cristiãn)_ used the time to rethink the situation.

“What did they ask you about?” David _(Cristiãn)_ suddenly queried his guests.

Again, all four were hesitant to speak.

“They wanted to know about you and Cassidy,” Brooke finally spoke up.

“What about me and Cassidy?” David _(Cristiãn)_ challenged back.

“They just wanted to know how you and Cassidy were getting along, that's all,” Ronald defensively assured. “I think they want to know that you're in control of things.”

Ryan and Alexandra nodded their agreements with Ronald.

“What did you tell them?” David _(Cristiãn)_ asked back.

“Nothing, _Cristiãn_ ,” Brooke sharply answered. “What could we tell them? You don't tell us anything. Hell, I had to hear it from Cassidy that the last time you saw each other was more than a month ago.”

David _(Cristiãn)_ was alarmed to hear that Brooke had spoken with Cassidy, and he instantly tightened his focus on her.

“You spoke with Cassidy?” David _(Cristiãn)_ quickly asked.

“We saw her a few days ago at the medal ceremony,” Brooke grudgingly confessed with a nod toward Ronald.

“Why did you do that?” David _(Cristiãn)_ sharply asked with a scowl.

“ _Stefan_ told us to do it,” Ronald answered flatly.

Ronald's answer astounded David _(Cristiãn)_ momentarily. He then looked to Ryan and Alexandra for confirmation that they too were given the same instruction.

“Yeah,” Ryan concurred with a nod.

Alexandra smiled as she answered, briskly nodding of her head.

“No,” David _(Cristiãn)_ gruffly commanded. “You can't do that. Cassidy will…”

“Don't worry, _Cristiãn_ ,” Brooke calmly interrupted. “We're under orders not to do anything to her.”

“That's right, _Cristiãn_ ,” Alexandra excitedly supported. “ _Stefan_ just wants us to talk to her a little bit.”

David _(Cristiãn)_ took a moment to huff his displeasure.

“Cassidy won't like it, and there's no telling where it might lead.”

“Relax, _Cristiãn_ ,” Brooke countered with a hint of exasperation. “I just asked her for some help with a problem. It's no big deal. She'll survive. Besides, if you and Detective Tremaine were on speaking terms, I wouldn't have needed to approach her at all. We would have you for information on everything Cassidy Tremaine.”

David _(Cristiãn)_ was miffed by Brooke's rebuff, but he could think of no reasonable counter argument. He knew that his tacit vampire siblings were going to keep an eye on Cassidy with or without his help.

“What did you ask her to do?” David _(Cristiãn)_ passively asked at the end of his deliberation.

“I asked her to get me out of a jury summons,” Brooke coolly replied.

“Really?” Alexandra excitedly interjected. “Are you going to do it?”

“No, _Flavia_ ,” Brooke quickly answered with an annoyed inflection. “I'm just giving Cassidy a chance to take care of it for me.”

“Wow!” Alexandra exclaimed with a wide smile. “So, she's doing it?”

“We'll see,” Brooke answered with indifference.

David _(Cristiãn)_ passively listened to Brooke and Alexandra's exchange up until now. Disinterest caused him to shake it off in favor of his main concern.

“So, there's nothing else going on?” David _(Cristiãn)_ asked his guests with an intonation of frustration. 

“No, nothing,” Ryan spoke in response to a look from David _(Cristiãn)_.

David _(Cristiãn)_ turned his eyes toward Ronald.

“No, _Cristiãn_ ,” Ronald answered with finality, “or at least nothing that was said to us.”

David _(Cristiãn)_ sat back in his chair and began reviewing all that he had just learned. He suspected the answers he just heard were truthful, but he also believed that Ronald's answer was an indicator that he too believed there was something more behind _Stefan_ and _Helga_ 's visit. It made sense to David _(Cristiãn)_ that _Stefan_ would not share his true intentions with the four of them if he wanted to keep it a secret from him or Cassidy.

“Can we go now?” Brooke asked with a sigh.

“Yeah,” David _(Cristiãn)_ returned with resignation.

David’s _(Cristiãn)_ four guests promptly got up and started for the door.

“Enjoy the festivities,” David _(Cristiãn)_ sarcastically called out just as Ryan opened the office door.

Alexandra stopped and turned back toward David _(Cristiãn)_ before cheerfully responding with, “We always do.”


	4. New Beginnings

It was early Sunday afternoon when Jeremiah suddenly sat up in his bed gasping for air. His brain was in a terror, but at that moment he did not know why. For several seconds he did not know who he was, where he was or why he was there. It took nearly a minute for his mind to reconstruct his memories. By that time exhaustion and nagging pangs of hunger had become the dominant influence in his existence. With just enough energy to move, Jeremiah crawled out of his bed and on to the floor. An overwhelming want for water and food was driving him. He climbed up onto his feet, stumbled into the bathroom and began drinking water straight out of the faucet. The water gave him a boost of energy, and Jeremiah used it to make his way downstairs and into the kitchen. He went right for the refrigerator and the stores of packaged raw meat stuffed inside. Without waiting to close the refrigerator door, Jeremiah pulled out a flank steak, ripped open the packaging and began eating it. Relieved by the taste of meat in his mouth, Jeremiah dropped down to a sitting position on the floor and continued to devour the meat in his hands.

It took Jeremiah nearly five minutes to eat the steak. After guzzling some water out of the pitcher from the refrigerator, he ripped into a second package of raw meat with less of a ravenous frenzy. The driving hunger was satiated by the first steak, and he slowed his eating to savor the act. As he consumed the meat, his fingernails and canines began growing into claws and fangs. It took him double the time to eat the second steak than it took to eat the first. No satiated, Jeremiah leaned back against the open refrigerator and wallowed in the fulfilled sensation he was experiencing.

“It worked,” Tony exclaimed as he walked into the kitchen.

Tony had been asleep in the guest room until a minute earlier. The sound of Jeremiah moving about took more than fifteen minutes to bring his mind back to consciousness.

“I didn’t want this,” Jeremiah cried out in a panicked voice.

“Yes, you did,” Tony hissed back. “Don’t lie to me. You’re immortal now. This is what everybody wants.”

Jeremiah had no response to Tony’s declaration. He knew it was fear of something new, fear of what it would be like and fear of death that stopped him from asking Tony to turn him.

“You didn’t know you could do it,” Jeremiah complained after a pause. “You used me; you made me your guinea pig.”

“Relax,” Tony countered dismissively. “It was easy. _Razvan_ told me that if I gave you my blood within a few minutes of your heart stopping it would work.”

“You told me he said there was a fifty, fifty chance it would work,” Jeremiah vehemently contradicted.

“That was before… when they were living in the past. Stop your whining. It worked,” Tony exclaimed as he pulled Jeremiah up from the floor by his lapels.

Tony’s living in the past remark was about the life that the vampire _Razvan_ and his Dacia cohorts had more than two-thousand years ago. At that time, much about vampirism was steeped in the beliefs and superstitions of religion, demonology and black magic, and the process of turning a mortal into an immortal often employed a ceremony. The science of the 20th Century brought _Razvan_ and his Dacia cohorts around to the understanding that vampire blood had to be administered into the mouth a several seconds before or within a few minutes after death to accomplish the transformation. Any sooner or later might result in the immune system killing the vampire virus or the brain stem tissue decaying beyond reanimation. Because they made it their rule in the present day to never turn a mortal into an immortal, the assumption had been untested. Tony’s decision to turn Jeremiah into a vampire was predicated on _Razvan_ ’s assurance that it would work and that it worked on him.

“How do you feel?” Tony continued as he looked Jeremiah up and down.

Jeremiah continued to consider himself with an introspective stare. After a moment, Tony noted Jeremiah's preoccupation and continued to speak.

“Feels great, doesn’t it?” Tony questioned with a declarative flair.

“Yeah,” Jeremiah returned with a smile. “It does feel good.”

“And it only gets better,” Tony cheered. “Wait until you’re at full strength.”

Jeremiah continued to take inventory of himself. His amazed expression broadened with every deep breath he took.

“Think about it, Jerry,” Tony asserted. “What if there were a dozen—two dozen—hell, a hundred of us?”

Jeremiah barely listened to Tony while stretching and flexing his arms and body and marveling at the feel of vitality within him.

“We would be unstoppable,” Tony continued with maniacal enthusiasm. “There's nothing we can't do.”

Jeremiah was peripherally aware of Tony's words and their meaning. The physical state of his person had most of his attention. Tony's propensity for making plans that went beyond the limits of his wallet was something that Jeremiah was familiar with. At times, Jeremiah saw it as his job to educate Tony to financial realities, and he was used to seeing these lessons rein in Tony's ambitions. But, it was Jeremiah's enthrallment with the new feeling of power that made him more receptive than usual to Tony's grand scheming.

“We start tomorrow,” Tony declared with an air of satisfaction.

Jeremiah passively accepted the rantings of his old friend as something that might be doable, and his thoughts turned to something he was having trouble remembering.

“Tony,” Jeremiah suddenly spoke out with a confused frown. “What did that vampire tell you about mating for life?” 

Tony hesitated just long enough to give Jeremiah a wide smile and a look that said he was thrilled to answer the question.

“When you turn a mortal woman into a vampire, you own her,” Tony returned in a hushed voice.

Tony gave Jeremiah a moment to think about that, and then he began to speak again with a fiendish stare.

“Yeah, that’s right. You turn her; you own her.”

_~~~~~Liine Break~~~~~_

It was 6:44am, Monday, when Cassidy walked into the squad room of Manhattan South Homicide. It was her first day of work inside the 13th precinct as a homicide detective 2nd grade. The squad room was mostly empty when she arrived. An administrative aide showed her to the desk assigned to her. She was warmly greeted by four detectives within the first five minutes of her arrival, and then Lieutenant Donald Laughton, the officer in-charge of the squad, arrived and invited her into his office.

“Welcome to Manhattan South Homicide,” Lt. Laughton greeted as he sat behind his desk. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you, sir,” Cassidy returned before sitting in the chair in front of Lt. Laughton’s desk.

Lt. Laughton was a man who looked to be in his late fifties. He was of average height and mostly gray hair. He was not someone that most people would refer to as heavy set, but he was thickly built, and his neck looked to be squeezing out the top of his shirt. His demeanor was pleasant but indifferent. It was clear from his manner that he had been through the process of welcoming new arrivals to the squad many times before.

For more than ten minutes, Lt. Laughton questioned Cassidy about her record and briefed her on his expectations going forward. He showed no indication that he was impressed by Cassidy’s recent successes and the commendations and promotion that followed them. At the end of the extemporized portion of their meet, he gave Cassidy a perfunctory speech about the mandate of Manhattan South Homicide.

“You’ll be on Team One,” Lt. Laughton announced as he signaled to someone through the glass partition of his office. “Detective Jason Hale will be your team leader.”

“Yes, sir,” Cassidy agreed with a nod. 

Cassidy kept her attention directed at Lt. Laughton until a thin, six foot, forty something man walked into the office. He was not an unattractive man, and his attire flattered his appearance. He greeted Cassidy with a smile and then promptly led her out of Lt. Laughton’s office. Cassidy quickly noted that Dt. Hale was a dynamic person. His movements were quick and streamlined. He seemed to always know exactly where he was going, and he wasted no time in getting there. 

Dt. Hale walked Cassidy around the squad room and introduced her to ten detectives and two administrative aides before leading her to his team.

“This is Detective Geoff Greene,” Dt. Hale announced with a gesture toward a balding man who looked to be in his late thirties or early forties.

Dt. Greene stood up ahead of Cassidy’s arrival and extended his hand after the introduction. He greeted Cassidy with a smile, and she returned his greeting with a smile.

“Over here is Detective Howard Russo,” Dt. Hale gestured.

Cassidy walked over to the desk where a bespectacled, slightly rotund and studious looking man sat slightly reclined in his chair. Detective Russo sat up when Cassidy approached and extended his hand while peeking over the top of his glasses.

“Hi,” Dt. Russo blandly greeted.

Cassidy shook his hand and returned the greeting with a smile.

“And seated here is Detective Vera Washington,” Dt. Hale announced and gestured toward the desk across the aisle.

Cassidy noticed early on that Vera seemed to be taking an intense interest in her. As Cassidy walked around the room, she noticed that Vera was watching her far more than anyone else. What concerned her even more was the apparent glare within her gaze.

“Hi,” Cassidy called out as she walked over and extended her hand.

Vera waited a moment after Cassidy came to a stop beside her before coolly taking her hand.

“Hi,” Vera spoke with a nod and a sullen stare. 

The handshake was brief, and Vera discontinued any recognition of Cassidy’s presence immediately after the separation. It was clear to Cassidy that Vera’s default was not to like her, but she dismissed it as a matter worthy of concern. Starting an association with the other’s disapproval was nothing new to Cassidy. For Vera, starting a new association with an officer by disliking him or her was new.

Detective Vera Washington was a slightly less than handsome woman in her mid-forties. Her experience as an officer in the United States Army was exhibited in her bearing and manner. It was clear to all that she took her job serious and that she took her arrest and conviction record far more so. Her dedication to the of NYPD Detective Bureau was exemplified by her status as a divorced single woman with no children. Vera was a dedicated NYPD Officer who did not put wife and motherhood ahead or even on a par with career and success. She had little respect for women who tried to have it both ways. In her mind Cassidy was too attractive and too much of a mom to be a good police officer and detective and that made her an embarrassment to her as a woman in this male dominated profession. But it was Cassidy's sudden notoriety and miraculous rise to Detective 2nd Grade that was behind Vera’s immediate dislike for her. It took Vera nearly twice as long to achieve the same advancement. In Vera's mind, Cassidy got lucky and collected a lot of undeserved accolades because of it and also because of her decidedly attractive appearance.

“Catch up work will be most of what you’ll be doing for the next few weeks,” Dt. Hale informed Cassidy.

“Catch up work?” Cassidy queried as she moved behind her desk.

“Yes,” Dt. Hale returned. “You'll see. You're in the system,” he continued with a gesture toward the computer monitor on Cassidy's desk. “Setup your login and familiarize yourself with our open cases. That should keep you busy for the rest of the morning.”

After giving that statement, Dt. Hale turned and walked off toward his desk. Cassidy watched him walk away for a moment before looking to Dt. Greene with a questioning expression.

“What's catch up work?”

“Miscellaneous paperwork,” Dt. Greene casually answered. “It's Hale's way of getting a new detective up to speed on how he likes the paperwork done.”

Cassidy was just about to acknowledge her understanding when Vera interrupted.

“The shit work,” Vera spoke with a hint of disdain. “You're nobody special here. You start at the bottom like everybody else.”

“Yeah, okay,” Cassidy agreed with a slightly annoyed shake of her head.

“We're a team here,” Vera emphatically continued. “There's no grandstanding—no showboating. We work as a team. We succeed as a team. And at the end of the day, everybody goes home.”

Cassidy suspected the last part of Vera's remark was a dig on the fact that her last partner was shot and died in her arms.

“Yeah, got it,” Cassidy acknowledged.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

Charlie Panko made a phone call to Jeremiah's home shortly past 1pm, Monday. He expected to leave a message with Jeremiah for Tony to hear when he awakened that evening. When Charlie heard Tony answer, he briefly forgot what he was going to say. After his initial surprise, Charlie reported that he and Mickey Nevers had setup a meeting with a Sinaloa Cartel representative for 2pm Thursday. The meeting was to take place at Augusto's Restaurant in Jersey City. In turn, Tony instructed Charlie to come to the house straight away and to bring Ben with him. He offered no reason for the mid-day meeting and entertained no questions on the subject. It was a few minutes past two in the afternoon on Monday, when Charlie and Ben arrived outside the back door of Jeremiah’s home. 

Charlie and Ben were mildly curious about the summons from Tony, and it was not because of the daylight hours for their meeting. They had seen Tony awake and moving around during the day before. They were with Tony when he went shopping for new clothes in the middle of the day. Charlie and Ben knew that his vampire body could absorb direct sunlight for several hours before shutting down. They knew that doing things at night was Tony's preference but not a necessity. What did give Charlie and Ben cause to be mildly curious was the absence of an explanation for a daytime meeting. They had no idea what Tony could want from them during the day that they could not do at night.

“Come in,” Tony called through the back door.

The backdoor of the house opened into the kitchen. Charlie and Ben stepped through the doorway and hesitated. The kitchen, adjacent dining and living rooms were dark. No lights were on anywhere and all the blinds were down. The dark interior of the house was new to them both. In the past, some light fixtures were always on for Jeremiah’s benefit. The absence of light had them both wondering where Jeremiah was.

“Close the door,” Tony ordered impatiently.

“Yeah, boss,” Charlie acknowledged as he closed the back door.

“Put the meat in the refrigerator,” Tony commanded when Charlie and Ben hesitated in front of the closed kitchen door.

“Oh, yeah,” Charlie suddenly remembered just before setting off for the refrigerator.

As usual, Charlie and Ben arrived with several grocery bags of packaged meat. When they began storing the meat in the refrigerator the light inside illuminated Tony’s facial expression. They saw nothing in Tony’s demeanor to suggest he was angry, but the absence of Jeremiah had them worried. Charlie and Ben began exchanging nervous glances as they worked.

After a a moment of silence, Charlie nervously asked, “Where’s Jerry?” 

“Jerry is in the basement,” Tony impassively answered. “There’s some stuff down there we need you to take out to the car.”

“Yeah, what’s that?” Charlie asked nervously with a glance toward Tony.

“Finish up,” Tony responded abruptly.

Charlie and Ben finished storing the meat in the refrigerator a few seconds later. His insistence that they hurry up seemed unnecessary to them both, and it added to their concern about the meeting.

“Come on,” Tony ordered as he turned and started for the basement stairwell.

Charlie and Ben reluctantly followed Tony, exchanging nervous glances as they went.

“Boss, is this going to take long?” Ben asked anxiously as they descend the stairs.

Tony ignored the question as he continued leading his two henchmen into the basement. At the bottom of the stairs, Tony walked past the light switch as he made his way to the center of the room. He stopped and turned to face Charlie and Ben who were a few steps behind. 

“Boss, don't you think we should turn some lights on?” Ben apprehensively queried.

“I see fine,” Tony gruffly disputed.

A diffuse light coming through four narrow curtain-covered windows along the top of the walls on either side of the basement provided minimal light. A clutter of furniture and boxes created darker shadows in the corners for the large space that extended the length and width of the house.

“So, where’s Jerry?” Charlie asked.

“I'm here,” a voice from behind softly spoke out.

Charlie and Ben swiftly turned in the direction of the speaker. A visual study of the area soon revealed a dark silhouette of a man standing in a corner shadow. A few seconds later, the head of the silhouette titled up and exposed two light reflecting eyes. Charlie and Ben were shocked by the sight of the two eyes glinting in the darkness and took an involuntary half step back as they stared at the figure. After a pause, the figure stepped out of the shadow.

“Charlie. Ben.” Jeremiah greeted as he looked from one to the other.

Jeremiah was a slender version of the slightly rounded figure he once was. His facial features were youthful, and his bald spot and reclining hairline were gone. In its place was a thick carpet of dark hair that covered the whole of his head. His eyeglasses were not on his face. Charlie and Ben were dumbfounded by the sight of him.

“Jesus, Tony, what did you do?” Charlie asked in a frightened huff.

“He made me better,” Jeremiah answered on Tony's behalf.

“You look—good,” Ben stumbled out.

“I feel great,” Jeremiah nearly growled.

Charlie and Ben inched back in response to Jeremiah's vociferous return. Neither Charlie nor Ben knew how they should respond to what they were seeing. Now they both had strong suspicions that Tony was planning to do something to them, and they were fearful of the top two possibilities. Charlie was 44 years old and Ben was 47, and neither had longings for their youth. In their minds, they were still physically fit men. The thought that Tony and Jeremiah were about to turn them into vampires was a big fear. They were happy to work for Tony and Jeremiah and benefit from their successes, but the idea of fundamentally changing their existence was a terrifying thought; it was also the lesser of their two fears. The thought that Tony and Jeremiah were going to feed on them until they died was their greatest fear. A fight or flight contention welled up within them as they looked to each other for the correct decision.

“I know you're afraid,” Tony calmly conveyed.

Charlie and Ben quickly turned about to look at Tony.

“But you don't have to be,” Tony continued in the same soothing tone. “This is the start of a whole new beginning for us.” 

“Wait a minute, boss,” Charlie returned with a wide-eyed stare. “You're not thinking about turning us?”

“Yeah,” Ben quickly chattered in. “I think things should stay the way they are.”

Tony gave Ben a smile in response.

“Trust me,” Tony said. “You'll feel differently tomorrow.” 

Immediately after Tony spoke those words, Jeremiah seized Ben by the head and shoulders from behind. Ben screamed in terror as Jeremiah snatched him backwards towards his exposed fangs. In that same moment, Charlie turned and looked at Jeremiah in horror. He was an instant away from running for the stairs when Tony grabbed him from the front by his head and shoulder, yanked him forward and dug his lower fangs deep into the front left side of his neck just below the jaw and into the carotid artery. His upper fangs dug in with equal force into the rear of Charlie's neck. Almost immediately the taste of blood spilled into Tony’s mouth and he began sucking from the wound. Charlie squirmed against the assault, but Tony's powerful arms held him tight against his chest. At first Charlie's heartbeat worked against him. Blood flowed into Tony's mouth like a weak stream of flowing water. More than a minute into the feed, the stream had weakened to a dribble and Charlie’s resistance drifted off into unconsciousness. A minute later, Charlie's heart beat its last and Tony sucked out blood by the strength of his lungs alone. A few seconds later he lowered Charlie's lifeless body to the floor. Jeremiah did the same with Ben at nearly the same moment.

“Has his heart stopped beating?” Tony asked Jeremiah.

“Yeah,” Jeremiah answered with a nod.

“Are you sure?” Tony sternly challenged. “He cannot have a heart...”

“He's dead,” Jeremiah gruffly interrupted.

Tony paused to snarl at Jeremiah beneath his breath.

“Now we make two more of us,” Tony declared with insistence. “Do as I do.”

Tony bit into the palm of his own hand until blood began flowing from the wound. He then opened Charlie's mouth and allowed his blood to drip inside. Within seconds of seeing this, Jeremiah did the same with Ben.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

At the end of her first day with Manhattan South Homicide, Cassidy went to pick up her kids at the home of Valerie Bower. Valerie was a neighborhood acquaintance who provided daycare for Cassidy and two other working mothers in the area. Her house was down the street from Cassidy’s. When Cassidy arrived at Valerie’s house, she was mildly surprised to learn that her mother, Margaret, had already picked up Cynthia and John. Usually Margaret would call before picking up the kids. After a quick check of her cell phone, Cassidy saw that Margaret had called while she was driving home. Cassidy apologized for the interruption and after a brief exchange of pleasantries she set off for home.

Nearing her house, Cassidy saw her mother’s car parked out front. Cassidy parked in the driveway next to the house, retrieved a corrugated box full of case files from the trunk and carried them inside with her. When she stepped across the threshold of the front door, Cassidy smelled food cooking in the kitchen. Cynthia and John were on the living room floor reading and writing in their schoolbooks. They promptly got up and went to her with ‘hi mommy’ greetings and ‘what’s that’ questions. Cassidy returned their greetings as she carried the box to the dining room table.

“It’s homework,” Cassidy explained.

“Did you go to school, mommy?” Cynthia asked with surprise.

“Well, it’s homework from work,” Cassidy returned with a smile. “It’s stuff I have to learn for my job.”

Satisfied with that answer, Cynthia asked nothing more about the box. She waited for her welcome home kiss from Cassidy, which was promptly delivered to her and John, and then she and her little brother went back to the living room. As her kids went back to their studies on the floor, Cassidy turned and setoff for the kitchen.

“Hi mom,” Cassidy greeted Margaret.

The kitchen was a mixture of sounds and smells with heat radiating from the stove. Margaret was standing over the kitchen counter chopping celery when Cassidy spoke.

“Hi dear,” Margaret greeted with a glance toward Cassidy. “How was your first day?”

“It was fine,” Cassidy quickly answered. “What are you doing?”

“I’m fixing dinner,” Margaret explained, slight astonished.

“The kids have already eaten,” Cassidy lectured with a frown. “Valerie always feeds them.”

“Well, this is for us,” Margaret mildly disputed. “Cynthia and John can have the Jell-O fruit salad I brought.”

Cassidy shook her head with mild astonishment.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Cassidy admonished.

Margaret ignored the reprimand with a look and smirk.

“Go clean up,” Margaret instructed. “Dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”

Cassidy did as she was instructed and came down from the upstairs bedrooms to a dining room table set for dinner. Cynthia and John were already munching away at desert bowls filled with the Jell-O fruit salad that Margaret brought from her home. Margaret was seated behind a full plate of food at one end of a six-chair table. Cassidy paused to note the food situated just beyond the empty plate at the opposite end of the table, and then she sat down behind it.

“So, how was your day?” Margaret asked pleasantly.

Margaret began cutting and piercing her food with knife and fork after making her inquiry. Cassidy was already putting food into her plate when she heard the question, and she took the time to complete what she was doing before looking to Margaret with her answer.

“It was okay, mom,” Cassidy returned with an artificial smile.

Margaret noted Cassidy’s facial expression more than her words. She could see that her one and only daughter was not interested in sharing her thoughts at this moment. She was not detecting any signs that Cassidy was troubled about anything, but she was expecting more of a reaction to the completion of her first day as a Manhattan South Homicide Detective.

“You've been struggling half your life to get where you are now, and all you can say is, ‘it was okay,’” Margaret challenged.

Cassidy continued serving herself food and Margaret continued to eat. For several minutes there was nothing but the sound of cutlery and plates clanking around the table.

“It's the same job, mom,” Cassidy replied while skewering food onto her fork. “It's just in a new location.”

“Oh, please,” Margaret admonished with exasperation. “It's Manhattan South Homicide.”

Cassidy knew that her mother was not going to dismiss any attempt by her to minimize her new position. Margaret was the wife of a retired NYPD officer. Cassidy knew her mom appreciated the size of the leap in her promotion.

“Okay, if you must know, it was boring,” Cassidy declared after lowering her utensils. “They had me doing a lot of paperwork, filing and stuff like that. I was the water boy.”

Cassidy took a moment to give her mother a questioning look, and then she went back to eating her food. Margaret briefly smiled at her daughter’s sarcasm.

“So, it's your first day,” Margaret lectured with a shrug. “You can't expect to jump right into things.”

“I don't, mom,” Cassidy returned defensively. “You're the one making a big deal out of it.”

“Don't play grown up with me,” Margaret scolded. “I used to change your diapers.”

Cynthia giggled at this exchange, and John followed her lead even though he did not know why they were giggling. Cassidy gave her mother a look of resignation.

“It was a little thrilling, but that wore off quickly,” Cassidy admitted, mildly dejected. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I want to hear everything,” Margaret returned with a wide smile.

Cassidy took a few seconds to consider her mother. She believed Margaret was sincerely interested in her new job at Manhattan South, but she also believed there was something more to her mother’s visit and dinner.

“I think some of the detectives there don't like me, or they resentment me for some reason,” Cassidy offered indifferently. “But it's the first day.”

Cassidy hoped her confession would satisfy Margaret’s interest in her first day at Manhattan South and cause her to move on to the next subject.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” Margaret compassionately stressed.

“It doesn't matter,” Cassidy dismissed. “I just need to get up to speed on these open cases and do my job.”

“Is that what's in the box?” Margaret queried as she turned her attention back toward her dinner.

“Yeah, most of them are old cases,” Cassidy explained while carving into her food. “Two of them are recent. If I'm going to integrate with the team, I need to familiarize myself with all their open cases.”

Cassidy was not being completely truthful. Winning the acceptance of the team was a minor part of why she brought copies of the open case files home. Achieving success as a detective was the dominant motivation behind every career move that Cassidy made. The personal acceptance by her co-workers was a secondary concern to Cassidy. Proving herself to be an invaluable member of the team was a must.

Cassidy felt that making herself invaluable meant being up to speed on her team’s open cases, this was particularly true with the latest two: a bodega shooting and a stabbing at a Pier 17 rock concert. More than a dozen older cases were already copied into the NYPD’s cold case files. These latest two homicides occurred within the past two weeks and were being actively investigated by Cassidy’s team.

“I'm sure you'll do fine.” Margaret assured.

“Okay, let's talk about you now,” Cassidy asserted.

Margaret finished chewing her food before responding to Cassidy’s remark.

“What about me?”

“You're not going to keep doing this?” Cassidy gestured toward the food on the table. 

“Honey, you're commuting into Manhattan now,” Margaret spoke defensively. “Your workday is getting longer, and you should be thinking about moving back home with me and your dad. There's plenty of room. The house is too big for just the two of us.”

“I'm not doing that to you and dad,” Cassidy countered with insistence.

Margaret sighed her displeasure. 

“But we would love to have the kids here, and think of what you'd save on daycare costs,” Margaret disputed.

“It's not happening, mom,” Cassidy firmly insisted. “Get used to it,” she stated with finality.

Margaret shook her head in disappointment. Cassidy noted her mother’s disapproval and then went back to eating her dinner.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to have a life,” Margaret spoke in a suggestive tone.

“I have a life,” Cassidy contradicted. “I have my friends, and I have my family—when they’re not nagging me.”

“Your job is taking up too much of your life,” Margaret countered. “And this new posting is just making it worst.”

“I like my job. I enjoy the work, and I’m good at it,” Cassidy stated with a scowl.

“There’s more to life than work,” a peeved Margaret insisted.

“What are you talking about, mom?” Cassidy asked with a bewildered look.

Cassidy considered the possibility that Margaret was referring to her love life, but the absence of explicit verbiage caused her wonder if she was speaking of something else.

“What happened to David?” Margaret asked with a poker-faced stare.

Margaret’s question surprised Cassidy. David was a name they had not spoken for more than a month. Cassidy thought that her escapade with the man her mother only knew as David had been forgotten.

“David was a mistake—a big mistake,” An aggravated Cassidy insisted. “There’s no David, mom.”

Cassidy’s jittery return did not go unnoticed by Margaret.

“Yes dear.”


	5. Busy Work

“Who is he?”

“James Dryden,” Dt. Russo reported back to Dt. Hale while reading off his tablet. “Fifty-six—married—no children; his son from his first marriage died of a drug overdose four years ago. He’s been married to his third wife now for all of nine months, and they have a $50 million townhouse in Lenox Hill. He's the senior finance director for the Hebron Group; a venture capitalist and a very, very wealthy man—or he was.”

It was 8:53am, Tuesday, when Cassidy and her Manhattan South Homicide team arrived at the crime scene of a murder. James Dryden’s body was sprawled on the sidewalk along a narrow one-way street between two buildings. Construction scaffolding was situated over the sidewalk to protect pedestrians, and it also shielded much of the walkway from CCTV cameras. Across the street and halfway down the block was a parking lot entrance. Police cars and crime scene tape at either end of the street kept back dozens of onlookers and the news media.

“How wealthy?” Dt. Hale asked as he moved to look at the body from a different angle.

“His net worth is estimated at just north of 500 million,” Dt. Russo reported from memory.

Dt. Hale stepped back and began examining the surroundings. After a few seconds of study, he began softly speaking to no one in particular.

“What are we looking at?”

“It has all the appearances of a robbery-murder,” Dt. Greene plainly answered.

“But you think it's too apparent?” Dt. Hale inferred out loud.

Dt. Hale was alluding to the fact that the victim’s wallet and watch were missing, and all his pockets were turned out. The scene created a visual that screamed robbery.

“It seems like the killer went to a lot of trouble for a simple mugging,” Dt. Greene surmised. “And then he bumps it up to murder? It smells funny to me, sarge.”

“On the other hand,” Dt. Vera Washington countered as she looked about. “The shooting is timed between 6:18 and 6:23 depending on whose watch you’re going by. This looks like it could be a crime of opportunity. You got your vic walking out of a parking structure and onto a secluded street with no witnesses around. Our perp may have thought it was too good to let pass.”

Everyone took a moment to digest Vera’s supposition.

“I don’t see it,” Cassidy hesitantly interjected. “You’ve got a perp lurking outside of a parking garage at six in the morning looking for someone, anyone, to rob at gunpoint,” she continued with an introspective shake of her head. “Who would take that kind of risk for what would have likely amounted to a few hundred dollars at best?”

Vera was annoyed by Cassidy’s challenge to her theory. An alternate read of the crime scene was acceptable from anyone but her.

“Like I said,” Dt. Vera spoke with sternness, “a crime of opportunity.”

Cassidy gave the crime of opportunity theory some thought, and that produced a swell of satisfaction within Vera.

“Look at this place,” Cassidy spoke up after a brief deliberation. “Why go through all the trouble of intercepting your mark in the one place with no surveillance cameras, kill him and not know who he is or how much money he’s carrying?” 

“You think the killer knew the victim?” Vera challenged Cassidy with disbelief.

“If the perp didn't know the victim, then somebody took a big gamble without any proof that it was going to pay off,” Cassidy speculated.

“Maybe he was a junkie and the mugging went bad,” a bewildered Vera suggested. “It happens.”

“The shooting is too clean for a mugging gone bad,” Cassidy corrected. “Three shots, no misses, and each wound potentially fatal, the killer wanted Mr. Dryden dead.”

“I agree,” Dt. Greene supported. “I’m not seeing any signs of a struggle. We could be looking at a hit in disguise.”

Vera took offense to being corrected by Cassidy and was angered even more when Dt. Greene backed up her thinking.

“He was probably standing at point blank range,” Vera argued in defense of an alternative theory. “The perp shoots him twice, the victim falls, but he's not dead. The perp panics and shoots the vic in the head.”

“Then the perp didn't panic,” Cassidy disputed. “I mean, shooting someone in the head seems a little too calculated to be panicked.”

Cassidy’s comeback infuriated Vera almost beyond her will to hide it. She clenched her jaw and took a deep breath to burn off some of her anger.

“He only shot the vic once in the head,” Vera argued after a pause. “Two shots to the head with a small caliber weapon is the rule for professional hits.”

“Not if you're trying to make it look like a mugging,” Cassidy corrected again. “The victim has two wounds to the chest—closely spaced. I think the perp fired two quick shots, our victim went down, and then he shot him in the head for good measure.”

“That fits with what the garage worker said he heard,” Dt. Russo seconded, “two shots, one after the other, and then a third a few seconds later.

Dt. Hale scanned the faces of his team for dissenting opinions. Other than the scowl on Vera's face, he saw nothing to suggest that the murder disguised as a robbery was an invalid theory.

“Okay then,” Dt. Hale announced to his team. “Stick to the robbery-homicide for the press. Russo, check DAS (Domain Awareness System). Greene, dig up everything you can about Dryden: family, friends, enemies, associates, competitors. Look for anyone who might have a reason to want him dead. Call me if you find anything worth knowing right away. Washington, you're with me. Let's see if the people who knew Dryden can tell us if anyone wanted him dead. Tremaine, stay on the background checks on that Pier 17 rock concert stabbing. See if you can find a new lead. We'll meet you back at the squad room.”

Cassidy was humiliated with her order to go back to screening suspects in the Pier 17 rock concert stabbing-homicide. She knew that the shooting death of James Dryden was destined to be a high-profile case, and she believed her input qualified her for a significant role in the investigation. Being told to focus her attention on a stabbing-homicide that went mostly unnoticed by the press felt like a slight, but sober thinking recognized that it was likely a decision based on seniority and the allocation of tasks.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

It was shortly after one o'clock in the afternoon when Dt. Hale and Dt. Vera Washington returned to the squad room. Their report to the squad was that James Dryden was thought of as a nerd who happened to be brilliant in the fields of corporate finance and global investments. He went out of his way to avoid making enemies, and he wallowed in the attention, admiration and flattery he got from others. He was disliked by many who thought him boring, but no one thought enough of him to hate. He enjoyed adorning himself with trappings that suggested he was more sophisticated than he was, and this tendency extended to his choices in wives.

“Do you think Mrs. Dryden is capable of putting a hit on her husband?” Dt. Greene questioned with intrigue.

“I don't know, possibly.” Dt. Hale returned.

“She's a phony,” Vera decried. “I can tell that much. I didn't buy her weeping and sobbing for one second.”

“That doesn't make her a killer,” Dt. Hale countered.

“How did she look?” Dt. Greene asked with his gaze toward Dt. Hale.

“She looks like someone who married for money,” Vera quickly spoke up. “And now she's got it without the fuddy-duddy husband that came with.”

“It sounds as if you like her for the murder,” Dt. Greene speculated.

“If it was a hit, then my money is on her as the author of the contract,” Vera enthusiastically concurred.

“Well then, we should put her on the suspect board because it's looking a lot like a hit,” Dt. Russo announced.

“What do you have, Howard?” Dt. Hale queried with a glance his way.

“I singled out the shooter on CCTV,” Dt. Russo reported while activating his computer.

Dt. Hale and the rest of his team followed Dt. Russo around to the back of his desk, Cassidy included. After a few clicks of his mouse, Dt. Russo activated a CCTV playback on his computer monitor. The image of a lone man standing at the intersection of the side street where James Dryden was killed and the larger cross street is on the monitor. The man is wearing a Yankees baseball cap and a thigh length raincoat. He has long stringy hair coming out from under the cap. He has a mustache and beard, and wearing sunglasses.

Cassidy had stopped her research of the Pier 17 rock concert stabbing suspects to be a part of this discussion. The James Dryden murder was still looming large in her thoughts. From the beginning, Cassidy was leaning toward a contract killing. The news about Kathryn Dryden did not sway her one way or the other, but Dt. Russo’s claim that he had images of the killer did intrigue.

“Here he is before the shooting,” Dt. Russo pointed at the screen. “He’s just waiting. Now wait,” he instructed as he sped up the playback for a few seconds. “Look at that. He ignores this guy who comes out of the same walkway as our vic. Okay, hold on,” Dt. Russo instructed again as he moved the playback forward a few minutes. “Note the time—6:19. He goes down the side street.” Dt. Russo moved the playback up again. “The time is now 6:23. He comes out and takes off at a walk like nothing has happened.”

“You sure that's the shooter?” Dt. Hale challenged.

“There's no activity at the other end of the street, and nobody comes out of there until the first patrol car arrives five minutes later. This guy is our shooter,” Dt. Russo declares with a point. “I tracked him to a subway station and then he just disappeared into the rush hour crowd.”

“Did he get on a train?” Vera asked.

“Not in those clothes and beard, he didn't,” Dt. Russo answered.

“A disguise?” Dt. Hale thought out loud.

“He could have gotten on one of a dozen different trains that went through during the morning rush, or he could have ditched the disguise and walked right out of there with a hundred other morning commuters. I've got officers checking the trash up and down that line.”

Dt. Hale pondered all that he knew and heard, and then looked up into the faces of his team.

“Okay, it looks like we've got a hit. Our only suspect is Kathryn Dryden. Find me a better one or prove she did it. Let's get to work.”

Cassidy had little to do with the effort to discover who was behind James Dryden’s murder. Her work continued to be the process of identifying the people at the Pier 17 rock concert through phone calls and social media, doing background checks on them and cross referencing their history with that of the victim. After another hour of identifying faces in images, doing background checks and calling individuals, Cassidy asked for and was given time off for personal business.

The personal business that Cassidy wanted to attend to was _Adrianna_ ’s jury summons. Cassidy was not sure that there was anything that she could do, but she did have her concerns about what _Adrianna_ would do on her own. To avoid parking issues, Cassidy took a cab to the New York County Courthouse. She went directly to the office of the Commissioner of Jurors and made a request for ten minutes of his time. After waiting for 27 minutes, Commissioner Bernard Milgram welcomed her into his office.

“So, what can I do for you, Detective,” Commissioner Milgram queried from behind his desk.

“I’m here about one of your jury summonses,” Cassidy returned while placing a photograph of the summons on the desk.

Commissioner Milgram took the photograph, briefly examined it and then began typing the information from the paper into his computer keyboard.

“Brooke Chapman—what about her?” Commissioner Milgram asked.

“Well, I was hoping you could excuse her from jury duty,” Cassidy explained softly.

Commissioner Milgram was surprised by such a request coming from an NYPD detective, and gave Cassidy a confused look. He knew that the NYPD had an official channel for making a jury summons exemption request.

“That’s not my job,” Commissioner Milgram shrugged. “That’s up to the judge.”

“I was told you could take her off the list so that she wouldn’t have to go through that whole process,” Cassidy quickly countered.

Cassidy's push back elevated Commissioner Milgram's suspicions. He thought that there had to be some conflict with policy and procedure behind her unofficial request.

“What’s this about, Detective?” Commissioner Milgram questioned in a challenging tone.

Cassidy took a breath. She could see that her request was not being received well. She was overly perturbed by the thought of her request being denied. The idea that Brooke and Ronald would leave New York and possibly the country would be an acceptable outcome, but her worry was this would not what would happen. Cassidy did not want Brooke or any of the vampires manipulating people’s minds with their intoxicating pheromones, especially government officials. And she knew that mind manipulation was the most likely outcome if she failed to quash Brooke's jury summons.

“Ms. Chapman’s time on a jury could have a negative effect on an investigation,” Cassidy defensively tossed out.

The lie that Brooke was part of an ongoing investigation was not a last second concoction by Cassidy, but it was a ruse that she was hesitant to use.

“There’s a process through your superior for a request like this,” Commissioner Milgram promptly challenged.

“My lieutenant thinks Ms. Chapman’s value as a confidential informant is too insignificant to put through a formal request,” Cassidy quickly countered. “But I’m hoping that a single potential juror is an insignificant number for you.”

The first thought that went through Commissioner Milgram's mind was that Dt. Tremaine was trying to do a favor for a friend. It was the ideal explanation for an attempted end run around a normal procedure.

“Detective, it’s against our rules and procedures to give special treatment to family and friends of public officials,” Commissioner Milgram explained.

Cassidy quickly pulled out her tablet in response to Commissioner Milgram’s assumption that she was trying to do a favor for a friend.

“She’s not a friend,” Cassidy eagerly assured as she tapped into her tablet. “Here’s the case file with her name in it.”

Cassidy placed her computer tablet on the desk in front of Commissioner Milgram. He began reading the case file with detailed information about Brooke Chapman.

“She is someone who is in a position to come into information that could be useful in an investigation,” Cassidy nervously insisted. “The likelihood is low, but I prefer to keep all my avenues open if I can.”

Commissioner Milgram finished reading from the tablet and looked. Cassidy was made uneasy by his momentary study of her.

“As you can see from the case file, this is a case that I am working,” Cassidy attested with a gesture toward her tablet.

The case file that Commissioner Milgram had just read from was a closed case, but he could not see that from the page he was looking at. It was the case of the Greenbelt Nine Murders that was opened and closed by Cassidy more than two months earlier and was tagged with her name and badge number in the top left corner of every page of the file.

“The department doesn’t allow officers to work cases involving family or friends,” Cassidy hurriedly insisted. “Ms. Chapman is strictly a CI that I would prefer to keep her in the field if possible. Her jury duty wouldn’t kill the investigation, but if it is of no inconvenience to you, I would prefer that she not be tied down to a commonplace duty that thousands of others could be doing.”

Commissioner Milgram examined Cassidy for a moment longer and then he began typing into his computer.

“Okay, Detective, your Ms. Chapman will be getting an exemption letter in the mail,” Commissioner Milgram acquiesced.

Cassidy accepted Commissioner Milgram's assurance with a smile and a thank you, then quickly left his office for fear he might change his mind.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“It's about time,” Tony exclaimed with irritation.

It was 8:12pm, Tuesday night, when Tony responded to Charlie's sudden rise to a sitting position on the floor. Charlie was gasping for air, with a look of wide-eyed terror. After a few large heaving breathes, he calmed down enough to speak.

“What—what, where am I? What happened?”

Tony was seated in a nearby lounge chair. He reached into the ice chest next to him and pulled out a raw chuck roast.

“Here, eat this,” Tony instructed as he tossed an unopened package of meat in Charlie's lap.

Charlie examined the unopened package of meat as if it was something he did not recognize. Tony knew his mind was dazed to the point that he did not know his own name, consequently he was reluctant to entertain his questions until his mind cleared.

“Come on, snap out of it,” Tony insisted as he clapped his hands.

Gradually, Charlie’s awareness of who he is and where expanded. Suddenly he was shocked to see another person lying on the floor next to him. The sight of the man on the floor caused him to jump with surprise, then he quickly turned his attention back toward Tony.

“Charlie?” Tony called out to focus his attention.

Charlie shook away the haze that had him in a fog. Within seconds his mind sharpened enough for him to recall who his name and who he was looking at.

“What did you do to me?” Charlie huffed as he felt his neck for the wound he expected to find there.

“Stop whining,” Tony grumbled. “I made you better”

“What's wrong with me?” Charlie moaned as he doubled over from exhaustion and hunger pains.

“Eat,” Tony commanded. “You'll feel better.”

“I'm not eating that,” Charlie arduously complained as he brushed the package of meat out of his lap.

Talking and moving caused Charlie to double over from exhaustion and hunger once again.

“Eat the damn meat, Charlie,” Tony roared.

As Tony spoke, Ben began to stir to consciousness. Noting the movement, Tony took another package of meat from the cooler and tossed it over to Ben. Charlie looked at the package of meat on the floor and debated with himself if he should eat the uncooked meat. The pangs of hunger had him desperate for food, especially meat, but his mind had yet to accept the idea of eating uncooked flesh.

“Go on,” Tony encouraged. “I promise. You're going to love it.”

Charlie reached out and picked up the package of meat.

“Open it,” Tony nearly whispered.

Charlie thought for a moment before making a small tear in the package. An instant after opening the package, his sense of smell was flooded with the aroma of the meat and it made his mouth water. His amazement caused him to hesitate, and then he stripped away the rest of the packaging and began to devour the cold raw meat.

“Good, isn't it?” Tony questioned with a roguish smile.

It took Charlie close to ten minutes to finish eating the four-pound chuck roast. Shortly into his feeding, Ben began consuming the four-pound chuck roast that was given to him. Tony gave them bottles of water that they gulped down after they consumed the last of the meat. When they had finished eating, Charlie and Ben stood before Tony looking invigorated. Tony stood from his chair in order to be at eye level with them.

“How does it feel?” Tony grumbled from under his breath.

Charlie and Ben had no words to describe the exhilaration they were feeling. After a moment of seething with excess energy, they roared their response to the heavens.

“Good. Now we can begin,” Tony declared with an air of satisfaction.

Tony spent much of the next hour explaining to Charlie and Ben their inherent sensitivity to light and heat and particularly the sun. He explained that the sun’s full spectrum of colors and wide variety of radiation made it far more dangerous to them than artificial light.

“The sun, over time—four hours at a minimum, will sap all your energy and rot your body down to the bone. The sun will kill you if you stay out in it too long. Your own exertions can speed this process up by depleting your body of life sustaining nutrients, but the great thing about being a vampire are your senses. All your senses are heightened to their extreme limits.”

Tony paused to give emphasis to his last remark.

“And strength,” Tony continued with a fanatical countenance. “You feel as if there are no limits to your power. Your body obeys your command and gives you whatever you ask of it.”

“I can feel it,” Ben agreed with a large intake of air. “I feel as if I could bite off the head of a shark.”

“But don’t get carried away,” Tony quickly admonished. “Your body will only give you what it has to give. The more you exert yourself, the sooner you deplete the fuel that sustains you: protein, meat, blood. Over exertion is dangerous to us especially during the day. Do you understand?” 

Charlie and Ben acknowledged their understanding of the warning.

“When necessary, we sleep when the sun is up,” Tony continued. “But only when necessary.”

“We don’t have to sleep?” Charlie grumbled with astonishment.

“Our bodies don’t, but our minds do,” Tony snapped back. “I’m told that if we don’t sleep a few hours a week our minds will fatigue.”

“What does that mean?” Charlie huffed with dismay.

“I don’t know,” Tony growled with annoyance. “What I do know is that when we are asleep, we can hear, smell, feel everything that’s going on around us,” he exclaimed.

Tony was naïve to the danger that vampires were in while they slept. _Razvan_ was killed before he could educate his newborn about how helpless he was while asleep. That was something his maker, _Razvan_ , had not explained to him. Another reason for Tony’s ignorance about the danger was his ability to process sounds, smells and sensations while he slept. It gave him a sensation of control. Conversations and activities that happened near him registered in his thoughts and were retained in his memory. But because of his dreamlike state of mind, he was unaware how far removed from real-time awareness he was. Things that he could hear, feel and smell took anywhere from several minutes to several hours to coalesce into a discernible sensation or event. Tony knew he could not instantly awaken from sleep, but he had yet to appreciate the full significance of that fact. The ability to will his mind to consciousness had him believing he was in no great danger while he slept. He thought that, shutting down his brain and body was just an energy conservation measure during the daylight hours.

The Dacia Vampires knew from experience that when they slept, a day or a decade could pass within the perception of a few minutes depending upon the depth of their slumber. They also knew that awakening from that sleep could take a few minutes to a few hours depending upon how deeply asleep they were. The Dacia Vampires knew that sleep was necessary for the brain and food was the remedy for physical exhaustion, but they also knew that sleep was when they were most vulnerable to attack.

“Are they awake?” Jeremiah called down from the kitchen.

It was 9:27pm, Tuesday night, when Jeremiah returned from the store with six grocery bags full of meat.


	6. Police Investigations and Criminal Enterprises

When Cassidy arrived at work Wednesday morning, she was put back on the task of searching for social media images of the Pier 17 Concert on the night that Eric Calder was stabbed to death. Her task was to identify people who were in the area where the stabbing took place and to search for images that might give them a clue about who did it. Cassidy found the task boring, but even more so because she was doing it alone. The other members of her team were busy dissecting the lives of James and Kathryn Dryden along with their immediate family, friends and associates. The Dryden investigation was what she was eager to work on. Despite her desire to dig into the Dryden murder, Cassidy was aware of the time sensitive elements of the Calder murder and knew she was the obvious choice to be doing that.

It was 10:47am when Dt. Hale called his team together to discuss what they had so far on the James Dryden murder. Cassidy thought to include herself in the gathering and was halfway to a spot around Dt. Hale’s desk when Dt. Vera Washington intercepted her.

“Have you finished contacting everyone on that list?” Vera questioned abruptly.

Cassidy knew that Vera meant the people that were identified from numerous Pier 17 Concert social media posts. On top of identifying these individuals and checking to see if they had any connection to the victim, Cassidy needed to call them and inquire about who and what they saw at the concert and if they had other images or videos of the event. She had spoken to half the people identified and was waiting for call backs from more than half of the remaining names on the list. The remaining eleven names were being sought out and contacted by officers in nearby precincts.

“Not all of them,” Cassidy returned with a shrug. “But I thought I should be in on this discussion.”

“No,” Vera corrected dismissively. “You need to keep on that list,” she finished with an insistent stare.

Cassidy returned the dismissive look before going back to her desk. She was angered by the brush off but did not want to make a scene in her new position. She also had nothing to offer in the Dryden murder investigation. Plus she could hear all that was being said from her desk, so she went back to the task of searching for social media posts of the Pier 17 concert while she listened to the meeting between Detectives Hale, Greene, Russo and Washington.

After roughly fifteen minutes of discussion, Detectives Hale, Greene, Russo and Washington agreed that Kathryn Dryden was not only the primary suspect in her husband’s murder, but that she was the person they all believed ordered the hit. A thorough background check on Mrs. Dryden uncovered that 33-year-old Kathryn Wells Dryden had been in a relationship with another wealthy man which fell apart when he learned she worked as an escort for a short time. They also discovered that Kathryn Wells was once a leading suspect in a grand theft larceny case, but no charges were filed, and the case was never resolved. There were also testimonials from acquaintances that described her as an unscrupulous vixen who toyed with men's affections for money. In addition to Kathryn Dryden’s background check, the team had yet to find any other supportable motive for anyone to want to kill James Dryden other than money. And Kathryn Dryden was the only suspect in possession of that motive.

“Okay, it's agreed,” Dt. Hale announced. “Kathryn Dryden is a good fit for the murder of her husband. But she will get away with it if we don't find the shooter.”

“The shooter has to be an acquaintance,” Dt. Greene declared. “There are no unusual expenditures or financial transactions in the Dryden’s accounts.”

“If he's someone she knows then so far he's invisible,” Vera countered. “So far, I haven't been able to find anyone she knows who could have been the shooter.”

“He has to be there,” Dt. Greene insisted.

“Maybe she hired someone with a promise to pay him later,” Vera suggested.

“Someone who doesn't know her personally would never do that—not without money up front,” Dt. Greene disputed. “We're looking for someone close to her or was close, a family member, maybe, or an old boyfriend.”

“I'm telling you,” Vera returned emphatically. “We've checked everyone. Her high school boyfriend has an alibi,” she added with exasperation. 

“Keep looking,” Dt. Hale ordered. “We have to be missing something. Double check her financials. It could be that she pawned something. Look into that. Do background checks on past girlfriends. Maybe we're looking for a friend of a friend. Keep digging. It has to be there.”

Detectives Washington, Greene and Russo disbanded after hearing Dt. Hale’s last command. They went back to their desks and began acting on their team leader's instruction. Cassidy continued with her work.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“Mr. Castellano, this is Tony McGuire. Mr. McGuire, this is Ruiz Castellano.”

It was 2pm Thursday when Mickey Nevers made these introductions inside Augusto’s Restaurant. Mickey rose from his seat and stepped back out from the table where Ruiz and his associate, Jorge Mendes, were having a large lunch.

There was no meal in front of Mickey’s chair. Ruiz and Jorge were representatives of the Sinaloa Cartel.

“Have a seat,” Ruiz spoke as he gestured toward the empty chairs across from him.

Tony gave Mickey a gesture to leave with a slight turn of his head, then waited on him to turn away before sitting across from Ruiz. Jeremiah took a seat at Tony's left.

“Thanks for taking my meeting,” Tony proffered as he settled in his chair.

Tony traveled to Jersey City for this meeting. Charlie and Ben waited in the car they all arrived in.

“You should try the Paella,” Ruiz suggested as he signaled the waitress.

When the waitress came over, Tony and Jeremiah requested water to the surprise of Ruiz and Jorge. After the drinks were delivered and the waitress dismissed, Ruiz and Tony settled back in their chairs and assessed each other.

“Mickey tells me he's running homemade candy for you,” Ruiz began politely. “So, why the move up to our nature-made sweets?”

“I'm looking to add to my business profile,” Tony quipped.

“Business profile?” Ruiz questioned back with a smirk.

“Yes, the market for homemade candy has reached its peak,” Tony retorted cavalierly. “I'm looking for something with more growth potential.”

“So, you're looking to import expensive candy that’s popular with the kids?” Ruiz stated with a questioning look.

“Precisely.”

“For sell in New York?” Ruiz questioned with a frown.

“I do business where the money is,” Tony returned unequivocally.

“New York is a crowded market, my friend. There are some people here who will not like you doing this kind of business in their—barrios.”

“That’s my problem,” Tony gently countered. 

“Yes, my friend, that is your problem,” Ruiz responded with a smile. “I'm just a supplier—a wholesaler. I do business with whoever can pay the purchase price. So, your problems are no concern of mine, but the transaction has to be worth my time and effort.”

“Six-hundred keys,” Tony stated softly.

Jorge pulled a calculator out of his jacket and began tapping figures into it.

“Six-hundred,” Ruiz repeated with indifference.

“Six-hundred to start,” Tony reiterated with confidence. “We plan on being a repeat customer.”

“Of course, we have no objections to that, but you should expect some push back on that from your competitors.”

“We don't have competitors. We have—temporary obstacles,” Tony returned dismissively.

“If you say so, Mr. McGuire,” Ruiz said with a smile and a shrug.

When Jorge finished tapping into his calculator, he slid it in front of Ruiz. After a brief look at the number in the display, Ruiz turned the calculator around and pushed it across the table for Tony and Jeremiah to view.

“Deal,” Tony softly declared.

“Excellent,” Ruiz respond with a nod. “You will get a text with a time and place for the exchange. The instructions in that text are nonnegotiable. If you back out, the deal is off, and any future deal will include a fee to compensate us for our inconvenience.”

“Not a problem,” Tony assured.

“Good,” Ruiz stated while laying his hands flat on the table.

Ruiz smiled at Tony, then he signaled for the waitress. The waitress hurried over to the table and laid the leather bill presenter next to Ruiz and walked away. Without giving it a look, Ruiz pushed the bill presenter across the table toward Tony and rose from his chair while Jorge followed his lead.

“Good day, gentlemen,” Ruiz proffered before leaving the table.

Tony impassively accepted the bill and acknowledged Ruiz's good day with a nod. Tony and Jeremiah waited until Ruiz and Jorge were out of the restaurant before speaking to each other.

“For a buy like this, we're going to have to use nearly all the cash we can scrape together,” Jeremiah leaned in and quietly asserted.

“Whatever it takes,” Tony responded in kind.

As he spoke, Tony stood and opened the check presenter. Jeremiah rose from his chair as Tony examined the check, retrieved a thin wad of bills from his pants pocket, laid several of them inside the bill presenter, closed it and then picked it up. He paused there with a thought.

“We should bring in Malcolm and Keegan,” Tony suggested.

Malcolm Ash and Keegan Walsh were a couple of construction workers that Jeremiah regularly employed and thugs that Tony infrequently hired. Malcom was 26 years old, big, husky and fearsome looking in appearance. Keegan was 23 years old, tall, muscular, handsome and in possession of an athletic physique. Neither had ever been in enough trouble to warrant a prison term, but they were not above profiting from moderately risky criminal ventures. Because of their youth, Tony used them sparingly as back up for Ben and Charlie or when he needed someone who was not well known within the local criminal and law enforcement communities.

“Should I tell them anything about—us?” Jeremiah softly asked.

“No—not yet,” Tony answered after a thought. “We’ll keep it for a surprise.”

Tony took the check presenter to the cashier and instructed her to keep the change, and then started for the exit.

When he got to the door, Tony stopped and turned toward Jeremiah with a frown.

“What?” Jeremiah asked after noticing Tony’s expression.

Tony thought a moment more.

“Find Lola,” Tony instructed just before donning his sunglasses and pushing through the front doors of the restaurant.

Jeremiah considered Tony’s words in disbelief. Then he donned his sunglasses and stepped out into the sunlight.


	7. Living for the Weekend

“Howard, did you find anything?” Dt. Vera Washington asked, looking across the aisle to Dt. Russo.

Detectives Vera Washington and Howard Russo were in the middle of validating the alibis of the men Kathryn Dryden serviced when she was a professional escort. It was a task they started at 7am Friday morning and had been working on nonstop for more than three hours. The names of the men that Kathryn escorted were given to them by the agency she was registered with. No contact was being made with these men, but their locations at the time of James Dryden's murder were being checked through records. The fact that nearly all these men did not live in New York state made verification easy.

“I've got a couple names to go,” Dt. Russo returned.

Dt. Russo's report that he was two names short of completion captured Vera’s interest. Her thought was that Dt. Russo was being held up by a name he could not disqualify as the shooter.

“Is there a hold up with one of them?” Vera eagerly asked.

“Nah. We've got movement on the Gary Bibb murder,” Dt. Russo explained dismissively. “I’m looking through it now.”

Gary Bibb was the Manhattan South bodega owner who was robbed, shot and killed seventeen days earlier. The job of finding his killer fell to Dt. Hale and his team. An absence of suspects and next to no evidence limited the investigation to CCTV searches for suspicious persons and vehicles around the time of the crime. The one piece of evidence they did have was the mangled .38 caliber bullet that pierced through Gary Bibb's chest and burrowed into the brick wall behind him. By this time in the investigation, the team was mostly convinced that the investigation was doomed to become a cold case that might never be solved.

Vera turned to Dt. Russo with an expression of curiosity and asked, “what kind of movement?”

“We got an E-mail from NIBIN with links to 34 open cases across the country that our bullet could be a match for; four of them are in the county. The most recent is four years old, and the oldest 27 years old,” Russo answered.

NIBIN was the National Integrated Ballistic Information Network. Images of the bullet that killed Gary Bibb was sent to NIBIN and compared to the millions of bullets in its database.

“So, they’ve got nothing,” Vera snidely commented.

“Well, it gives us something to look at,” Dt. Russo mused.

“No, we don't have time for that,” Vera quickly rejected. “Send it to Tremaine,” she finished with a toss of her hand.

The conversation between Dt. Russo and Vera was passively being overheard by the team. Cassidy’s interest in the exchange went from passive to active the instant she heard her name. Cassidy did not want another ancillary investigation pushed wholly onto her desk. She could see that these solo investigations were keeping her away from the James Dryden case.

“One of the cases is a four-year old shooting in Brooklyn,” Dt. Russo announced like a warning.

“You got a name for the shooter or an owner for the gun?” Dt. Vera Washington challenged without hesitation.

“No, it looks like a gang shooting—plenty of suspects there,” Dt. Russo responded as he examined the readout on his monitor.

“It's a goose chase,” Vera promptly denounced. “Give it to Tremaine.”

Cassidy understood the meaning behind the goose chase remark. Without knowing who owned the gun the investigation was slightly better off than where it was before, which was only true if it was the right gun. Cassidy knew the mangled bullet that was dug out of the wall at the crime scene would be difficult to match to a gun, and 34 possible matches told her all were likely mismatches.

Dt. Russo did as Vera suggested and sent the E-mail to Cassidy's inbox. Cassidy was still too busy with the Pier 17 stabbing to devote any attention to the NIBIN report. She was nearly two hours further along in her search for the identifies of hundreds of faces in the concert images when she got a cellphone text from _Adrianna_ that read, _across the street_. Cassidy examined the message then pocketed the cellphone in her blazer, logged out of her computer, and and started for the squad room exit.

Cassidy's attention to her cellphone and her preparation to leave the squad room went unnoticed by everyone accept Vera. To everyone else, Cassidy's exit from the squad room looked like a typical bathroom or kitchen run, but Vera knew neither of these was the case, there was little that Cassidy did that went unnoticed by her.

“Hey,” Vera called out to Cassidy in a hushed voice.

Cassidy stepped over to the side of Vera's desk and responded with a “yeah” in the same hushed tone.

“You should limit your personal life to personal time,” Vera nearly whispered with a cautionary frown.

Cassidy took immediate offense to Vera's intrusion, but she stopped herself from acting upon the feeling with a deep breath.

“This is important,” Cassidy hissed with marginal contempt.

“Just a friendly suggestion,” Vera returned softly and with a phony smile.

Cassidy reacted to Vera's suggestion with a momentary glare, then she walked away with long quick strides. The exchange between her and Vera went unnoticed by most within the squad room and with indifference by the others.

Cassidy made her way down the stairs, through the building and out the front door of the precinct in little more than two minutes. It took her a few seconds to find Brooke wearing a cap and sunglasses and standing in the shadow of a building halfway down the block. Cassidy hesitated a moment to fume at the sight of her, and then she quickly started down the street towards her.

“What do you want?” Cassidy demanded as she stopped in front of Brooke.

“You know what I want,” Brooke returned impassively. “I need you to get me out of that jury duty summons.”

“I already have,” Cassidy snapped back. “I've been assured that you'll get an exemption letter,” she continued with a forced calmness.

“You're sure about that?” Brooke queried with a frown.

“Yes, I'm sure,” Cassidy insisted with exasperation.

“Okay, okay,” Brooke returned in a manner that said she wanted Cassidy to calm down. “I just wanted to know if I needed to take other measures.”

Cassidy took a moment to huff out her feeling of aggravation.

“You could have called,” Cassidy complained with a scowl. “It's not like I don't have other things to do.”

“I told you, we don't talk private business over the phone,” Brooke softly reproved.

“And another thing,” Cassidy continued to complain. “I don't like you coming to my job.”

Brooke took a step toward Cassidy as she smiled in response to her complaint.

“Well, you made it very clear that we're to stay away from your home and family,” Brooke softly countered.

Brooke’s return annoyed Cassidy even more than she already was. She hesitated to fume at the Dacia Vampire and took satisfaction from the sight of Brooke inching back from the direct sunlight that was beaming onto her shoulder.

“Careful, you almost got a little sun there,” Cassidy sarcastically mocked.

Brooke noted Cassidy's snide remark before directing a sly smile at her.

“Although, coming to your house in the evening would be a lot more convenient,” Brooke pleasantly suggested.

“Don't even think about it,” Cassidy argued back. “If any of you bloodsuckers come to my home, I will expose you all.”

Brooke crossed her arms with a hint of defiance before responding.

“You do know that when you shoot that bullet there will be no putting it back in the barrel?”

Cassidy took a long pause while glaring at Brooke, then she spoke in a definitive voice and a point of her finger.

“Stay away from my house and my family.”

Cassidy held her stare to give emphasis to her words, then she turned and walked away. Brooke endured Cassidy's displeasure with indifference and walked away a few seconds later.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

Tony McGuire had not slept since his Thursday meeting with Ruiz Castellano. He wanted to be awake when the text from Ruiz came because the time and location of the exchange might require immediate action, and he feared his newly adopted habit of sleeping during the day would slow him down. To be sure they were ready, Tony, Jeremiah, Charlie and Ben were now staying inside Jeremiah's home so that they could support each other. The four of them had been awake all of Thursday, Friday and Saturday, and they stayed in because of the possibility that the text might arrive at any time. It was just past 10pm Saturday when Tony decided to break that rule.

“Where are you going?” Jeremiah asked Tony as he came down the stairs in his suitcoat.

“I need to get out” Tony grumbled. “I’m tired of being cooped up.”

“Do you want me to drive, boss?” Ben queried while quickly getting up from the dining room table chair.

“No,” Tony barked as he walked toward Ben. “Give me the key.”

Mildly confused, Ben pulled the car key out of his pocket and handed it over to Tony. According to his memory, Tony never went anywhere alone when he and Charlie were available to drive him. Tony’s departure from the norm had Charlie and Jeremiah wondering if there was something more to this need to go out.

“I'll be back in an hour or two,” Tony stated as he walked toward the front door.

Tony had no idea where he was going. He was not motivated by a need to go someplace. He was being driven by a want that he was not getting in Jeremiah’s house. Because he could not put his finger on exactly what he wanted, Tony felt compelled to move about in the cool, dark-of-night. He hoped the sights, sounds and smells of the world outside would mollify his senses and quiet the tingling irritation spreading out from his core.

Tony had been cruising the streets of Brooklyn for more than thirty minutes when the confine of the vehicle became an unacceptable barrier between him and the world outside. He parked the car on a dimly lit side street and got out to walk. After a short stroll to the nearest intersection, he turned onto a main street that had a dozen or more people loitering about the sidewalks and a steady trickle of cars crisscrossing by. Many of the individuals had the look of being street hustlers and drug dealers. A myriad of aromas flooded his sense of smell and nearly staggered him. But it was not the food cooking in the small eateries or the stench of trash and urine on the street that was overwhelming him. It was the scent of mortals wafting into his olfactory receptors that had him startled. For more than five minutes he savored the smell of each person he passed as he walked up the street. Finally, he realized why he was so antsy in Jeremiah's house, and he stopped to appreciate his new understanding.

“You looking for a date, sweetie?”

The question surprised Tony and awakened him from his reverie. It took him a moment to comprehend that he had been staring at a voluptuous, thirty-plus year-old prostitute with a powerful aroma. She was wearing a black one-piece halter-topped mini dress with a wide V-neckline. Tony quickly realized that it was her proximity that made her scent so potent and the likelihood that she had recently engaged in sex.

“Sorry. I got distracted for a moment,” Tony explained with a stoic expression.

“Don't be sorry, sugar,” the prostitute returned, stepping forward with a smile. “I have that effect on men,” she continued while posing with her hands on her hips.

Tony held his stance and gave the prostitute a look up and down.

“You see something you like?” The prostitute continued.

Tony knew at that instant that she was what he was looking for. He suddenly realized that the cold, bloodless, store bought raw meat had become mediocre faire for his appetite. The taste of Charlie’s blood when he was human spoiled him for anything less. Tony knew he could survive on the meat, but it was the rush of energy that he got from fresh warm blood that had him salivating for more. In his mind, the difference between meat and blood was comparable to adding wood or gasoline to a campfire. The invigoration he got from blood was intense and immediate; and the physically drain that came from being awake so over the past three days had him drooling to experience that intensity again.

“Yes,” Tony responded to the prostitute after a brief eye to eye stare.

A big smile spread across the prostitute's face as she maneuvered alongside Tony and hooked her arm around his.

“Well, hell, sugar,” the prostitute blared with a hefty laugh. “Spend some money on a girl and we can have a good time.”

Tony accepted the attention of the prostitute with a pleasant smile.

“How much money would I have to spend for a good time?” Tony asked with a sideways glance.

“Honey, a hundred will put a smile on your face for thirty minutes, and three will keep you grinning for an hour.”

Tony quickly scanned the area indicating that he was interest in having this good time.

“Let's say that I only have thirty minutes to spare,” Tony suggested. “Where do you suggest we go?”

“No problem, sugar.” the prostitute promptly countered with a smile. “I know just the place.”

With her arm looped around his, the prostitute ushered Tony down the block to the intersection and around the corner. A short distance down the side street was a nondescript three-story brick building. The prostitute led Tony to the front door of the building and stopped. She rapped lightly on the door which quickly opened. A scruffy man who looked to be in his forties and of average height and build gave the prostitute a look and then let them pass. The prostitute led Tony to the staircase near the front entrance and up to the second level. As she led him down the hall, Tony's keen hearing detected movement and voices of other people in the building, some—of—which were achieving climax. The prostitute guided Tony to a room at the left end of the hall. When they were through the doorway, she closed the door and turned to look at Tony with a serious stare.

“Show me the money,” the prostitute asked with a mixture of insistence and petulance in her delivery.

Tony pulled out the thin wad of bills he kept in his hip pocket and held it up for the prostitute to see. A wide smile quickly spread across the prostitute’s face.

“So, what are we talking about, sugar. For a hundred I can give you hand job, and for two I can give you blow.”

“A hand job will do,” Tony answered unceremoniously.

“You sure about that, sugar?” The prostitute questioned back in a sultry voice. “For three-hundred you get the full treatment.”

Tony peeled off one-hundred dollars from his wad of bills in response to her offer.

“The hand job will be enough,” Tony declared as he dropped the money on the bed.

“Okay, sugar,” the prostitute cheerfully agreed as she collected the money off the bed. “You're the customer,” she continued while stowing the money in her halter top.

When she finished putting her money away, she turned toward Tony with a wide smile and gave him a gentle push onto the bed. She eased down beside him while sliding her hand up his thigh. She looked down into Tony’s lap, found his zipper and started undoing it. She glanced up into Tony’s face and was suddenly startled by the light in his eyes. She stopped and caught her breath. A moment later, Tony parted his lips and the sight of four elongated canine teeth terrified her. She thought to run, but Tony quickly clasped his left hand over her mouth. Almost in that same instant, he reached across her back with his right arm and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her head down to his chest. She struggled, but his strength was too great by far. In a little more than two seconds, Tony had her squirming across his lap with his fangs buried deep into her neck. A minute later she was listless. Tony tossed her backwards onto the bed and went back to feeding from the wound in her neck. Two minutes later, the prostitute was dead.

Tony felt an intensified sensation of vigor and power. Without thinking, he stood and expressed his enhanced feeling of wellbeing with a roar. Several seconds later, his emotions began to calm, and then he looked down on what he had done. At that moment he began considering the question—what do I do now? Up until this moment, Tony’s thoughts were focused on what he wanted. His craving for warm blood had suppressed all thought of danger and consequence. It was only now that his thoughts were entertaining concerns about being seen and identified. He suspected that if he left alone by the way he came; the doorman would certainly remember him. He considered but realized that killing the doorman was also problematic; a disturbance at the front door would attract the attentions of others in the building and possibly more in the street.

Tony shortly realized that the money he gave the prostitute was the only thing in the room that had his fingerprints on it. He removed the money from beneath her halter-top and then used tissues from a box on the dresser to open the door to the room. He unobtrusively walked to the staircase and went up to the next level and then to the next as quickly and quietly as he could. When he reached a locked door at the top of the third flight of stairs, Tony rammed his shoulder into it and broke it open. He then raced out onto the roof of the building. Without hesitating, Tony ran across the rooftops of the buildings with ease. Height differentials between rooftops and the spaces between them were traversed with little detriment to his forward momentum. When Tony reached the far end of the block, he climbed down the side of the building in three quick drops from handhold to handhold. When he reached the ground, he walked away as though nothing had happened.


	8. Week In, Week Out

Dt. Cassidy Tremaine had an uneventful weekend. She and her team were not on call for Manhattan South Homicide which freed her to make plans without fear of interruptions. The work, stresses and conundrums of her job moved to the back of her mind. Cassidy used all of Saturday and Sunday to take care of her home, attend to her children and socialize with family and friends. When Monday morning came around, Cassidy went back to the same investigative tasks that she left behind Friday.

Cassidy's team was still bogged down with the James Dryden murder, the Eric Calder/Pier 17 stabbing and the Gary Bibb/bodega shooting. These three murders were the most recent unsolved homicides on team leader Dt. Hale's desk, but it was the James Dryden murder that he directed most of the team's attention to. James Dryden was a multi-millionaire with a substantial public profile in New York City. Superiors all the way up to the mayor were pressuring Dt. Hale to find James Dryden's killer, and it was for this reason that Cassidy was the only member of the team not exclusively working on that investigation.

Today was the start of Cassidy's fifth consecutive workday at trying to discover when and where pictures and videos were taken during the Pier 17 stabbing of Eric Calder and who the people were within them. In addition to that investigation, she was running background checks on dozens of street gang members from four years back who might have been in possession of the gun that killed Gary Bibb, but likely not. Both investigations were regarded as less important than the Dryden murder and were thought not likely to be solved through the information they had at this time. In Cassidy's mind her desk was the waste dump for dead end investigations.

“Another one in the books,” Dt. Steven Brimley bellowed at 10:48am as he and three members of Team Three strolled into the squad room.

They had just witnessed the interrogation and confession of the suspect in a three-day old investigation and were returning to their desks to attend to their other open cases.

“He confessed?” Dt. Darren Lynch queried from behind his desk.

Dt. Lynch was a member of the third team of investigators situated in the Manhattan South Homicide Squad Room.

“Yeah, we got him,” Dt. Justin Avery confirmed with satisfaction. “The DA said the case was airtight. He didn't have a choice; it was either confess or add another ten years to his sentence.”

Dt. Greene detected an intonation of conceit in Dt. Avery’s voice and took objection to it. Their rivalry was an ongoing mechanism for friendly banter between them.

“Well, it's not like you had to do any real detective work,” Dt. Greene complained loudly.

The remark generated some soft chuckles from several in the room.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Dt. Brimley questioned with a scowl.

“It means,” Dt. Greene spoke up so Dt. Brimley could hear him from across the room, “your perp and your victim were known to hate each other; your perp had no alibi, and you had a DNA match. You could have performed that investigation by mail.”

The last part of Dt. Greene’s remark produced a louder chorus of chuckles from others in the room.

“Hey, don't take it out on us just because you can’t close your cases,” Dt. Avery quickly quipped back.

“We close our cases just fine,” Dt. Russo defended from behind his desk.

“Yeah?” Dt. Brimley questioned with surprise. “And when was the last time you did that?” He continued with a hint of snobbery.

“Piss off, Steve,” Dt. Vera Washington halfheartedly called out.

Dt. Brimley was amused by the ire he had instigated from members of Dt. Hale’s team. He turned his gaze toward Vera and found the words to continue the banter.

“I'm just saying, we closed six investigations over the past month,” Dt. Brimley spoke with haughtiness. “And you guys closed—one?”

“Two,” Russo quickly corrected.

“Yeah, two,” Dt. Brimley rectified with a smug smile. “Seeing how you guys are backed up,” he craftily continued, “maybe you should give us the Dryden investigation.”

“Get real,” Vera yelled back. “You girls couldn't work Dryden in your dreams.”

The last part of Vera’s return produced the largest number and volume of chuckles from around the room. Cassidy was the only detective in the room to give next to no attention to the banter. Her attention was fixed her work, so she did not notice when the conversation petered out a few minutes later. Except for a break for lunch, Cassidy gave little attention to anything but her work until a half past two in the afternoon when a new conversation caught her attention.

“Sam says that Brooklyn South just got a head scratcher,” Robert Loeb, the squad room's administrative aide, said to Dt. Russo.

“The prostitute?” Dt. Russo looked up from his computer monitor to ask with a look of surprise.

“You heard about it?” Robert queried with surprise.

“I heard they picked up a murdered hooker,” Dt. Russo answered with a shrug. “What’s the problem with it.”

“I don't know,” Robert answered. “Sam says they're seeing things odd about the killing.”

“They thought she was shot,” Dt. Avery called out while displaying little interest in the subject. “But now they're saying something ripped open her throat.”

“So, why is that a head scratcher?” Dt. Russo asked.

“When it was a shooting it looked like a crime of passion or a robbery,” Dt. Avery explained with a who cares look. “Now they think they've got some kind of lunatic on the loose.”

“That makes sense,” Dt. Derek Norwood pondered aloud. “If she had been shot, then the likely motives would be an argument over money, a fight with a john, or a pimp. Ripping someone's throat open sounds way beyond the norm.”

Cassidy was thinking that very same thing. The difference with her thinking was that she knew a group of beings who would fit as the perpetrator for just that kind of attack.

“Are they sure she was a prostitute?” Cassidy asked Dt. Avery with a tinge of alarm.

“Yeah, she has a rap sheet,” Dt. Avery cavalierly answered. “They're interviewing known associates now. So far, nothing.”

“And are they sure it was murder? I mean, could it have been an accident?” Cassidy queried back in rapid succession.

“The body was found dumped in an alley,” Dt. Avery answered while frowning at her question. “I think it's a safe bet.”

Thoughts and counter thoughts bounced about in Cassidy's mind. She told herself that the prostitute was probably stabbed in the neck, and that a dreaded idea had her mind jumping to the possibility she most feared. She told herself that the vampires would not dare murder someone so brazenly, so openly, so defiantly. In the end, she decided the vampires would have done a better job of hiding the body, and that convinced her they did not do it.

“Brooklyn South will sort it out,” Dt. Hale spoke dismissively. “We've got our own investigations to work.”

Everyone got Dt. Hale’s message to get back to their own investigation. The subject of the murdered prostitute was quickly forgotten by everyone except Cassidy. She collected news about the murder whenever it came available, but this was always insignificant information. What Cassidy found more intriguing was the absence of details about the cause of death and the weapons used. Cassidy knew that there were only two reasons why information about a weapon that killed the prostitute was not public knowledge, the detectives did not know what killed her or they wanted to limit that knowledge to themselves and the killer. Either way, Cassidy knew there was something unique about this murder.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

_Come outside._

_Alexandra_

Alexandra’s message appeared in Cassidy’s cellphone display. After reading it, Cassidy paused to consider what she should do. The realization that a vampire had come to her job again was enough to make her angry. She briefly considered ignoring the summons, but thoughts about what Alexandra might do if she did not appear overruled that idea. Cassidy was also intrigued about Alexandra's reason for calling on her. The vampires were becoming a worry for her now and ignoring them was something she realized she could not continue to do.

At the end of her brief deliberation, Cassidy looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed her reverie. For a moment, her eyes met Vera's. They held each other’s gaze for a moment, and then Vera turned her attention back to her computer monitor. Cassidy was not surprised to see Vera watching her, but she was annoyed by it. She knew that Dt. Vera Washington was eager to see her trip up, but Cassidy did not have time for her. She got up and set off for the squad room exit in haste.

“Where are you going?” Vera asked in a pleasant voice just as Cassidy was about to pass her desk.

Cassidy hesitated next to Vera's desk to consider her question.

“I'll be back in a couple of minutes,” Cassidy returned with ire. “Don't solve any cases until I get back,” she finished mockingly.

Cassidy turned away and setoff for the exit without waiting for a comeback. Vera watched Cassidy hurry from the squad room and then went back to reading the information on her monitor.

“What do you want?” Cassidy demanded just as she stopped in front of Alexandra and Ryan on the sidewalk in front of the precinct.

“Hi,” Alexandra gleefully greeted Cassidy while ignoring her question.

Ryan also greeted Cassidy with a “hi” and a smile but with far less effervescence. Cassidy paused to express her impatience with a huff while crossing her arms.

“What do you want?” Cassidy asked with more insistence.

“We want to know how you like your new job,” Ryan happily answered.

“You called me away from my desk for this?” Cassidy challenged, annoyed.

“Well, we hardly ever get to see you,” Alexandra returned with a pout.

“That's not an accident,” Cassidy returned with a scowl.

Alexandra giggled in response and Ryan backed her up with a wide smile. Cassidy took a moment to note their silly display.

“Is that it?” Cassidy asked in disbelief. “Is that all you wanted?”

“Well, there is something we wanted to ask you,” Ryan stated hesitantly before Cassidy could walk away.

“Yes,” Alexandra cheerfully endorsed. “We need a favor.”

“You want a favor from me?” Cassidy returned with astonishment.

“Yes, a small one,” Ryan confirmed.

“We want to use you as a personal reference,” Alexandra explained as though she was bestowing a gift.

“Yeah,” Ryan spoke up in support of Alexandra. “We're looking to buy a condo and the building has an association, and they want to know a lot of stuff, and we thought you wouldn't mind us putting your name on the application as a reference.”

Alexandra supported every word Ryan said with a wide smile and excited nods of her head.

“And why in the hell would I let you do that?” Cassidy asked in a scornful tone.

Alexandra’s demeanor went from gleeful to astonished. Ryan was unfazed by Cassidy’s response.

“You got _Adrianna_ (Brooke) out of that jury summons,” Ryan countered with a confused shrug. “We’re not asking for anything like that.”

“Yeah!” Alexandra whined.

Cassidy paused in dismayed by their arrogance.

“You were going to kill me,” Cassidy angrily stressed each word.

“It wasn't personal,” Alexandra innocently countered.

“Besides, we were going to make it quick,” Ryan added with a stunned expression. “You're not going to hold a grudge over that, are you?”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have felt a thing,” Alexandra nearly insisted with a pout.

Cassidy shook her head and shrugged her shoulders in wide-eyed astonishment. A couple of seconds later, she composed herself for what she was about to say.

“I am not going to be your reference,” Cassidy spoke in a clear and calm voice.

“That's not fair,” Alexandra pouted somberly.

Cassidy gave no weight to Alexandra's display of hurt. She knew her sweet and innocent persona was more disguise than truth. But a question did come to mind regarding their request for a reference.

“Why do you need me anyway?” Cassidy queried with an amazed expression. “I mean, don't you have like a thousand friends?”

“Um, um” Alexandra replied shaking her head. “We only have you.”

“What?” Cassidy blurted with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

“We don't keep friends—mortal friends that is,” Ryan began to explain. “Mortal friends are just complications that we'll have to deal with down the road when we disappear.”

“Friends always want to stay in touch,” Alexandra continued to explain. “And then there’s the questions about children and aging.”

“It's easier to limit our associations with mortals to passing acquaintances,” Ryan elucidated.

Cassidy paused to digest their explanations when Alexandra decided to speak into the silence in an artificially pathetic tone of voice.

“You’re the first mortal that we’ve been able to really talk to since we came out of the cave.”

Cassidy took a deep breath and rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“So, how did you manage these situations in the past?” Cassidy queried as though she was asking the obvious.

“Oh, that's easy,” Alexandra began with an upbeat cadence. “We just whispered in somebody's ear when we want to get something from them.”

“But _Adrianna_ told us you ordered her not to do that,” Ryan added with a frown and a mocking smile. “So, of course we assumed the order extended to us.”

“Yeah,” Alexandra loudly pouted. “So, you have to help us.”

Cassidy considered what she should say or do next. She scowled at Alexandra and Ryan while taking another deep breath.

“Okay,” Cassidy relented as though her resistance had collapsed. “Use my name. I'll be your reference.”

“Yea!” Alexandra exclaimed with unrestrained exuberance. “Let's hug,” she continued, stepping forward with arms open.

“No—no!” Cassidy sharply countermanded with a step back and a raised hand. “No hugging.”

“Aw,” Alexandra pretended to sulk.

“So, we thought we’d say that you and Alexandra met when you were twenty and have been friends ever sense,” Ryan suggested.

“Yeah, that's fine,” Cassidy returned impatiently.

“Great,” Alexandra blurted out with a wide smile.

A brief awkward pause followed their agreement.

“Is that it?” Cassidy abruptly asked.

“Yeah, that's it,” Ryan answered with a smile.

“Okay,” Cassidy replied.

Cassidy quickly turned started walking away when she suddenly stopped and turned back around.

“Wait,” Cassidy called out.

Ryan and Alexandra were still standing in the same place. They noted Cassidy's quick turn back towards them and fixed their attentions on her before she spoke.

“Do you know anything about a murdered prostitute in Brooklyn?” Cassidy asked after walking back.

Alexandra and Ryan looked at Cassidy with their best ‘what are you talking about’ frowns.

“Why would we know anything about a dead prostitute?” Ryan asked mildly offended by the question.

“So, you don't know anything about a prostitute being found last Monday with her neck torn open,” Cassidy questioned again while inching forward.

“No, nothing,” Alexandra innocently returned.

Cassidy quickly looked to Ryan and searched his face for confirmation of Alexandra's answer.

“No.” Ryan said with a shrug.

Cassidy looked back and forth between them searching for a tell that one or both were lying, but she saw nothing in their expressions to make her believe either possibility was true. Alexandra and Ryan's pretense at naïve innocence continued to hide their true thoughts and motivations.

“Is there a vampire out there killing people?” Cassidy sternly asked. 

“No, we wouldn't do that,” Alexandra spouted with exaggerated naiveté. “We all promised.”

Cassidy studied Alexandra and Ryan again.

“If you don't believe us, then you should go ask _Cristiãn_ ,” Alexandra asserted.

Cassidy studied Alexandra for a moment before responding. “Okay, I was just checking.”

“No, you should go see _Cristiãn_ ,” Alexandra urged.

Cassidy noted Alexandra urging her toward David _(Cristiãn)_ , and she began to wonder what was behind it.

“You really should ask _Cristiãn_ these questions,” Ryan supported. “Somebody may have told him something that we don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Alexandra quickly concurred.

Cassidy hesitated and gave them both suspicious looks before responding, “I'll think about it,” before turning away and setting off for the precinct.

“I'm sure he will be happy to see you,” Alexandra called out as Cassidy walked away.


	9. Hoboken Transfer

“Get yourselves ready,” Tony commanded as he came down the stairs. “The exchange is happening today, twelve noon. We’re going to Jersey.”

It was 9:14am Saturday when Tony made his announcement. The text from Ruiz Castellano came to his cellphone just moments earlier. Factoring in travel time, Tony knew they had ample time to make the meeting if they were not wasteful. Collecting Malcolm and Keegan was his only concern.

“I’ll be needing you for a one-day project at some point in the next week.”

Malcolm and Keegan were given that message by Jeremiah three days earlier and had been ready ever since. They knew that message was code for work that was off the books and illegal, which also meant a lot more money for a lot less work. The occasional drug money collection run, and rousting of delinquent dealers were just an additional facet of working for Tony. Fighting, rough housing and bullying had been a large part of their lives; getting paid for it was just a logical progression for both men. When they got the call from Jeremiah, they hurried to his home in Keegan’s 2010 Dodge Challenger R/T Coupe. It took them about thirty minutes to arrive at Jeremiah’s home where they were shocked by what they say.

“It’s the new me,” Tony declared with a smile.

“I don’t get it, boss,” Malcolm said with astonishment. “What happened?”

Several weeks passed since Malcolm and Keegan had been in the same room with Tony, Jeremiah, Charlie or Ben. When they last saw them, they appeared to be in their later forties to mid-sixties. The men they were looking at seemed to be no older than they were: in their mid-twenties. Tony’s athletic physique made him barely recognizable from the man he was when they last saw him, and Jeremiah’s distinctive size and build was the only thing that gave away his identity.

“It’s a new drug,” Tony explained with confidence. “And it’s going to make us filthy rich.”

Tony, Jeremiah, Charlie and Ben faced their two new arrivals for several seconds, allowing them to adjust to their new physical changes, and then Tony instructed everyone to get moving. A dismayed Malcolm and Keegan went back to their Dodge Challenger with new thoughts and questions about who they were working for and what they were doing.

“What are we going to do about them?” Jeremiah questioned Tony at the front door.

“We’ll talk about it later at the stash house,” Tony answered before turning away and walking out the front door.

Several minutes after Malcom and Keegan’s arrival, everyone except Jeremiah set off for Hoboken, New Jersey. He stayed behind to attend to other business. Tony occupied the backseat of his late model Buick LaCrosse with Ben driving and Charlie riding shotgun. Keegan followed behind in his 2010 Dodge Challenger R/T Coupe with Malcom in the front passenger seat.

At 11:33am, Tony and his team arrived at a four-story parking garage in Hoboken. Parking spaces were plentiful most weekend mornings. Ben backed the Buick into a parking space on the third level away from neighboring cars. Keegan and Malcom backed their car into a space across the aisle and five spaces down. They were all armed with handguns. Shortly before noon, Ben got out and opened the Buick’s hood and lingered there to give the impression that he was examining the engine. The raised hood was a signal to Castellano’s people of their location.

Just past noon, Castellano’s advance guard rolled past Tony’s car in a late model, black four-door Chevrolet Impala. The four men inside the vehicle visually examined Tony’s car then Keegan and Malcom’s car. Moments after they passed both cars, Tony got a text from Castellano.

_Who is in the Dodge?_

Tony responded in kind.

_They belong to me._

Moments after Tony’s response, the Chevy Impala returned from the opposite direction and backed into a space across the aisle, six spaces down effectively putting Tony’s car between Keegan’s car and the Impala. For several minutes, the occupants of the three cars sat and watched each other. Everyone was armed and ready with handguns. The wait ended when a late model Mercedes CLS rolled up the aisle and backed into the space next to Tony’s Buick on side nearest to the Challenger. The tinted windows prevented Tony from seeing who was in the car, but he had no doubt that Ruiz Castellano was one of the occupants.

The driver of the Mercedes, a stern looking Hispanic, shut off the engine, stepped out of the car and open the hood of his car. His actions gave the impression of one driver assisting another driver with a jump. As soon as this image was in place, Ruiz and another Hispanic male stepped out of the Mercedes, walked to the rear of their vehicle and opened the trunk. Tony and Charlie followed their lead moments behind.

The process of exchanging the cocaine for the money was a rushed effort. Neither Tony nor Ruiz wanted to linger there too long. The cocaine and the payment were in the trunks. Verifying the quantity and the quality of the cocaine was the longest part of the process. The contents of five duffel bags full of cocaine had to be examined, and the contents of a random bag of cocaine from each had to be weighed and assayed. When both sides were satisfied that the agreed upon quantities was present, they transferred the cocaine and the money from the trunk of one vehicle to the other.

“It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Senor McGuire,” Ruiz declared with a smile and the extension of his hand.

“For me as well,” Tony returned while shaking Ruiz’s hand. “I look forward to doing it again.”

Ruiz gave the reply from Tony a brief wide smile before he began speaking his thought on it.

“Your optimism is amusing, senor.”

“And why is that?” Tony questioned with an air of indifference.

“You are swimming in dangerous waters, Senor McGuire,” Ruiz answered with an amused expression. “If I were you, I would not be so confident. The sharks are big in New York.”

Tony took a moment to restrain a grin behind a wide smile.

“Tell your employer that if he wants to do business with the shark that has the biggest bite, then he’ll toss his chum my way.”

Ruiz gave the reply from Tony a sly smile before speaking to it.

“I will pass on your message, Senor McGuire.”

Ruiz gave a slight bow, and it was returned by a head and shoulder nod from Tony. Ruiz then turned about, got into the left rear passenger seat of his Mercedes and was driven away. The Challenger that was parked five spaces down the aisle followed the Mercedes out the garage. Tony and his LaCrosse took their leave of the garage a little more than a minute later. Malcolm and Keegan followed behind inside the Dodge Challenger.

After leaving the Hoboken, New Jersey, parking garage, Tony and his cohorts set a course for the commercial building in Brooklyn that Jeremiah was restoring. The building had four-stories. The first and second levels were configured to be used as a retail store of some kind. The second level was a mezzanine situated over one-third of the first level’s rear space. The third level was adaptable as a business or apartment space. The basement comprised the fourth level. Tony chose this building to be the stash house from where he would prepare for sell the cocaine he had just acquired. By choosing this location, the restoration work on the building had to be suspended. Jeremiah was displeased with the holdup on the work that needed to be done to the building, but he went along with the plan because of the money he expected to accrue from the sale of the cocaine.

It took Tony and company a little more than an hour to arrive outside the Brooklyn building that Jeremiah was restoring. There was no visible activity going on inside the building despite the appearance of being in mid renovation. They parked their cars in the small lot at the side of the building. Malcolm and Keegan noted that Jeremiah’s car was also parked in the building’s parking lot. When they got of the car, Tony instructed Keegan, Malcolm, Ben and Charlie to bring in the bags from the trunk of the LaCrosse. This was the moment when Malcolm and Keegan first noticed a discernible change in the appearance of Tony, Charlie and Ben from when they were in Jeremiah’s house. In appearance, they looked to be moving back toward their true age, but the change went beyond aging. They looked to be haggard and drained of energy. Their hair was now dull and filled with streaks of gray, their skin was pale and wrinkled, and their forms were starting to show emaciated appearance. Malcolm and Keegan were so startled by the simultaneous changes in their appearance that they gave each other questioning looks. Their confused expressions were noticed by Tony, Charlie and Ben. When Malcolm and Keegan went to carrying the duffel bags into the building, Tony, Charlie and Ben met up with Jeremiah in the center of the buildings main ground floor room.

“They know something is off,” Charlie whispered as he looked toward Malcolm and Keegan.

Tony gave his two young subordinates a look and noted that they had brought all five duffels into the building.

“Store it in the basement,” Tony instructed Malcolm and Keegan with a point of his finger toward the door to the stairwell.

Malcolm and Keegan hesitated to move on Tony’s instruction. The sight of Jeremiah’s unblemished features was a striking contrast to the weathered faces of Tony, Charlie and Ben. Malcolm and Keegan took a moment to note the difference between the four of them, and they began doing as they were instructed. Tony, Charlie and Ben waited for Malcolm and Keegan to carry a duffel bag slung across their backs and drag the other three into the basement stairwell before continuing with their conversation.

“Are they going to be a problem?” Tony questioned Charlie.

“No way,” Charlie insisted. “They know the rules.”

“They’re moonlighters,” Jeremiah disputed. “They do this for the money. They don’t have any loyalty to you, Tony. Tomorrow they could be working for someone else.”

“So, we bring them in,” Charlie argued back. “Make them a part of the team.”

“Turn them?” Ben questioned with a hint of eagerness in his voice.

“The plan is to make more of us, isn’t it?” Charlie questioned with a hard look at Tony. “Sooner or later they’re going to see too much and rabbit on us. We should do it now and get it over with.”

“Do they have people?” Tony queried with a look of concern.

“Nah, they both been pretty much on their own from the moment they got out of high school,” Jeremiah answered with a shrug.

“What about friends–women?” Tony quickly asked with a glance toward Charlie, then Ben and back again.

Tony knew that Charlie and Ben were more likely to know the answer to his question. They worked alongside Malcolm and Keegan on several occasions, and they infrequently socialized with them.

“Malcolm is strictly hookers and whores and Keegan is rarely with the same girl twice,” Charlie answered as though it was common knowledge. “And from what I can tell, the only friends they confide in are each other.”

Tony looked to Ben for confirmation and got a confirming nod of his head just as he spoke.

“Yeah.”

Tony took a moment longer to consider the idea of turning his two young soldiers of fortune. Malcolm and Keegan came out of the basement stairwell and started toward them while Tony was considering his options.

“Okay,” Tony pondered out loud with an approving nod of his head. “Let’s do it,” he finished a moment before Malcolm and Keegan joined the huddle.

“Do what?” Malcolm asked while scanning the four faces in front of him.

Tony, Jeremiah, Charlie and Ben took steps back to widen their huddle to include Malcolm and Keegan.

“We’re thinking about adding some new members,” Tony answered a moment of thought.

“Oh, really?” Malcolm pondered aloud.

“Yeah,” Tony answered as though he was still considering the question.

Keegan was giving no attention to what was being said. His thoughts were focused on Tony’s aged and weathered face. 

“You okay, boss?” Keegan interjected with a look of concern.

“I’m fine,” Tony returned with a stern look toward Keegan. “Why do you ask?”

“You were looking—great a few hours ago, and now you look—different,” Keegan explained with some effort to find the words.

“I am different,” Tony stoically explained. “We’re all different. We’re better—We’re stronger, faster and more powerful than any mortal living.”

“What are you talking about?” Malcolm asked with a confused shake of his head. 

“I’m talking about taking over this city,” Tony answered blandly. “I’m talking about becoming gods.”

Keegan was listening to every word that Tony said. His mind was fixed on the task of learning the truth of what was happening between Tony, Jeremiah, Charlie and Ben, and he suspected that he would eventually hear enough to piece it together. Malcolm became more confused with each statement from Tony. Asking for an explanation for each new statement was almost a reflex action.

“What—what does that mean?” Malcolm queried with a look of astonishment.

“It means, we are immortals,” Tony sternly answered. “It means, we are vampires, and you can be one too.”

Malcolm responded to Tony’s answer with a nervous chuckle. Keegan was momentarily confused by the statement. At first, he did not how to react, and then he followed Malcolm’s lead and began chuckling at Tony’s declaration. Their mirth produced vacant expressions and fixed stares from Tony and company. Malcolm and Keegan’s laughing shortly came to a stop when it became clear that Tony was not joking.

“Vampires don’t exist,” Malcolm disputed with a slight shake of his head.

“Oh, but we do,” Tony contradicted with a glint of light in his eyes and with the beginning of fangs protruding from beneath his smile. “And there will be more of us,” he finished with a step closer toward Malcolm and Keegan.

Jeremiah, Charlie and Ben took steps back to widen the circle into a semicircle around Malcolm and Keegan. Light began to glint off their eyes, and the beginning of fangs could be seen between their parted lips. Malcolm and Keegan were quickly unnerved by all of this and inched back as Tony, Jeremiah, Charlie and Ben continued to inch forward.

“What are you saying, boss?” Keegan nervously questioned.

“We want you to become one of us,” Tony explained in a soft voice.

“We are. We’re here for you, boss. Just tell us what you want us to do,” Keegan quickly returned.

“We need you to be vampires like us,” Tony explained decisively.

“How-how would we do that—I mean what would we have to do?” Malcolm questioned with panic in his voice.

“Well, you have to die,” Jeremiah answered with a smile.

Malcolm and Keegan continued to look about them with disbelief on their faces. At first, they could not believe what they were hearing was a serious conversation. Shortly into their examination of the faces around them and the light reflecting eyes staring back at them, their disbelief fell away.

“You’re serious?” Keegan exclaimed with alarm.

“Don’t we look serious,” Charlie returned with a sinister smile.

Malcolm and Keegan took a deep breath as they took another step back.

“Relax,” Ben encouraged with a smile. “It’s not going to hurt—much.”

“Why will it hurt? I mean, are you going to shoot us?” Malcolm queried with a look of worry.

“No,” Tony answered with a smile and a disapproving frown. “Shooting would do too damage. Repairing some vital organ would probably take an hour or more. Your brain would probably be too far gone by then.”

Tony took another step forward with a smile before speaking in a pleasant voice.

“Exsanguination is quick, and it doesn’t physically damage the organs. We then infect you with our blood—seconds before or after death—and reactivate your brain.”

“What are you saying,” Malcolm challenged with an inflection of terror in his voice.

“After death, we have to feed you our blood so that the virus inside can penetrate through the lining of your throat and into your brain stem,” Tony explained in a concise voice. “Do you understand?”

“And then we would be like you?” Keegan questioned with a worried frown.

“Yes,” Jeremiah flatly answered.

A paused followed this answer. Malcolm and Keegan took the time to consider all that they had just heard. Tony, Jeremiah, Charlie and Ben waited for their response.

“This change comes with responsibilities,” Tony spoke up into the silence. “The mortals will kill or imprison us if they find out.”

Malcolm and Keegan paused to consider Tony’s offer with looks of dread on their faces.

“I think not,” Keegan answered in a hesitant voice. “I’m good as I am for now, boss.”

“Yeah, me too,” Malcolm concurred. “Maybe later,” he finished while inching back.

“You thought I was giving you a choice?” Tony questioned with a soft and sly delivery.

An instant after Keegan heard this, he was seized by Charlie and Ben. Charlie bit into his neck without hesitation, and Ben did the same into his lower right arm. Tony and Jeremiah did the same to Malcolm in nearly the same instant. They began sucking out their blood at the instant they could taste it in their mouths. Malcolm and Keegan’s struggles to free themselves from the assault was useless. Just one of their attackers was far too strong for them. A few minutes later Malcolm and Keegan were dead.

“Give him your blood,” Tony sharply instructed Charlie.

A second after giving this command, Tony bit into the palm of his hand, went down on one knee and began dripping his blood into Malcolm’s mouth. Charlie waited long enough to observe the process and then he began doing the same with Keegan. A few seconds later, Tony clinched his hand into a fist and got back up on his feet.

“Put them in the basement,” Tony commanded Charlie as returned to a stance.

Charlie and Ben quickly went about the task of moving Malcolm and Keegan's bodies into the basement, and Tony and Jeremiah turned their attentions toward each other while this was happening.

“She’s in Massachusetts,” Jeremiah announced with a sigh.

“Lola?” Tony questioned back with a sudden look of fascination in his expression.

“She’s living in Dorchester,” Jeremiah continued to advise.

Tony closed the distance between him and Jeremiah by half a step and intensified his focus.

“What’s her address?” Tony queried with a hint of insistence.

“That’s all I know,” Jeremiah returned with a reluctant shake of his head.

Tony took a moment to be surprised by the answer that Jeremiah just gave. He then leaned toward him with a scowl on his face and with urgency in his next question.

“Did you talk to Mary?”

“Mary wouldn’t talk to me,” Jeremiah answered without hesitation. “But Kathy and Collette did. They say Lola was shacked up with some guy in Boston for a while. She then moved to Dorchester and got a job clerking in a drugstore. That’s all I got.”

“You sure about the info?” Tony challenged with a sternness.

“Kathy and Collette are sure about it, and they name Mary as their source,” Jeremiah glumly explained.

Jeremiah had suspicions about where the search for Lola was going. He knew from experience that Lola was the big love of Tony's life, and he suspected That Tony was planning to restore their relationship in his new existence as a vampire. What he was doubtful of was Lola's willingness to go along with his plan.

“Okay,” Tony acknowledged after a moment of thought. “I'll look into it. In the meantime, I need you to get to work on bags and signature stamps for the coke. We’ll call it the Midnight Special. And find a crew to cut, bag and tag, but keep them out of here until I come back.”

Jeremiah did not think to ask Tony where he is going. He knew that the answer to that question was Dorchester. Instead, he turned his attention to another matter that he felt Tony needed to know.

“Grasso knows about the purchase,” Jeremiah advised in a warning tone. “He’s put the word out that he doesn’t want to see any new powder in New York. Mickey says local pushers won’t touch our stuff.”

Thomas “Tommie” Grasso was the name behind the Jade Satin powder that was being sold across New York City. He was the local mob boss controlling the distribution and sell of all cocaine in Manhattan, and he was the person that Tony and Jeremiah were most concerned about offending.

“Does he know about this place?” Tony questioned Jeremiah with a glaring look.

“Not yet,” Jeremiah returned without hesitation. “But he will. A few days after our powder hits the streets, Grasso’s soldiers are going to be looking high and low for us.

“Don't worry about Grasso,” Tony began pondering out loud. “We're going to put him out of business before we hit the streets.”

Jeremiah anticipated this declaration. Tony had already made it clear that he was going to war with anyone who got in his way. Jeremiah's momentary period of silence was his way of expressing his dislike for Tony's course of behavior. It was always Jeremiah's preference to move about unseen and unheard. In his thinking notoriety was the greatest threat to their success.

Tony instructed Jeremiah to use Ben, Charlie, Malcolm and Keegan to guard the cocaine.

“I want everybody awake and in the stash house at all times,” Tony commanded just as Charlie and Ben came up from the basement. “And I want Malcolm and Keegan up and working as soon as they’re able.”

Tony turned his attention to Ben as he extended his open hand toward him.

“Give me the keys.”

An hour before sunset, Tony was on the road for Massachusetts.


	10. Vampires Rising

The basement of the building that Tony was using as his stash house was large, dark and empty. Because the building was in mid renovations, all furniture, storage items and leftover junk were removed so that repairs could be done unrestricted. Construction lights were hung along the length of the basement's ceiling, but they were rarely in use. There was not much work to be done in the basement. Electrical wiring along with plumbing and heating upgrades was the bulk of the work that would be in going on in the basement now if the building was not being used as a stash house. What was happening in the basement was the slow rebirthing of Malcolm Ash and Keegan Walsh into vampires.

It was Sunday evening when Malcolm and Keegan made their first stirrings toward full consciousness. Their bodies were loosely wrapped in construction canvas sheets and laid out in the center of the floor, side by side. Small, gradual movements quickly evolved into frantic efforts to escape the plastic wrappings that they were in.

Cries of “Get me out of here,” originating from inside the plastic wrappings were growing in frequency as their effort to escape became more frenetic. Upon hearing this commotion, Ben hurried down the basement stairs and turned on the construction lights.

Noting the tussle going on within the canvas wrappings, Ben yelled, “They’re awake,” back up the stairs.

Ben did not assist Malcolm and Keegan; he stood and watched them struggle to free themselves. It took just under a minute for them to get partially out.

“Where—where am I?” Malcolm asked with a confused expression.

“What happened?” Keegan mumbled a few seconds later.

As Malcolm and Keegan were questioning their situation, Charlie and Jeremiah came down the stairs to Ben’s side. They watched and waited for Malcolm and Keegan achieve full awareness. It took another minute for the duo to get up on their feet. Their ordeal left them looking haggard and dazed.

“What did you do to us?” Keegan huffed.

“Here,” Jeremiah commanded, “eat,” as he placed a small grocery bag containing four packets of raw meat and two bottles of water on the floor in front of them.

Malcolm quickly stooped down to the bag and pulled out a packaged raw steak and then looked up at Jeremiah with astonishment. Hunger had motivated his quick action, but the sight of the packet of raw meat in his hands had him befuddled.

“Open it,” Jeremiah insisted in a stern voice.

“I’m not eating raw…”

“Open it!” Jeremiah yelled before Malcolm could finish his remark.

Malcolm was momentarily shocked by the force of Jeremiah’s command. He hesitated then tore open the plastic. Instantly the smell of the meat filled his nostrils and tantalized his taste buds. Keegan was equally overwhelmed by the scent of raw meat. After a moment, a reluctant Malcolm ripped the remaining packaging off the meat and began taking large bites of it, one after the other. Keegan retrieved a steak from the grocery bag on the floor and followed Malcolm’s lead. He began devouring large chunks of the raw steak. Jeremiah, Charlie and Ben watched in silence as Malcolm and Keegan consumed all four packets of beef. By the time they were finished, their canines had elongated into fangs, their fingernails had grown out into claws and their eyes were light reflecting disks. 

“How do you feel?” Jeremiah asked just as the guzzled bottle water from the grocery bag.

Once the guys finished their water, they looked to Jeremiah and his question.

“Is this the way you feel all the time?” Keegan queried between heaving breaths.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Ben questioned with a wide satisfied grin.

“It feels great!” Malcolm roared.

“Good,” Jeremiah acknowledged. “Keep them here,” he instructed Charlie while moving toward the stairs. “Nobody leaves until I get back,” as he started up the stairs. “And somebody needs to be awake at all times, even during the day.”

“Where are you going?” Charlie called as Jeremiah ascended the stairs.

“I’ve got business to take care of,” Jeremiah responded as he hurried up the stairs. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. Call me if anything important happens while I’m out.”

Malcolm and Keegan spent the remainder of the night marveling at their new selves and eating raw meat. There was nothing else for them to do. Their job was to guard the cocaine filled duffel bags in the basement. Guarding the cocaine mostly involved staying quiet and awake. They were all sure that no one outside of their group of six knew about the cocaine inside the building. Other than a couple of late-night youngsters casually testing the strength of the lock and chain securing the property, nothing of interest occurred that night. By the time the sun was situated over the eastern horizon the next morning, Charlie, Ben and Malcolm were even more attentive to their guard duty because of the large number of people moving around outside.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“Manhattan South Homicide, Detective Tremaine,” Cassidy quickly announced into the telephone receiver in her hand.

It was mid-Monday morning when her desk phone rang. She had spent the whole morning searching for new leads in the Pier 17 stabbing and the Gary Bibb shooting without assistance. The other members of her team were fixated on the Dryden murder, and for good reason. The local news outlets were jockeying for a scoop on this killing and more than one government official was pressing for a quick and successful termination of the investigation. The shooting of a rich wall street executive with seemingly extreme prejudice during a robbery was fertile soil for conspiracy theorist within the local news. For the top governing officials of New York, the image of a wealthy New Yorker being gunned down on a city sidewalk in broad daylight without an arrest or a suspect was unacceptable.

“Hi, this is Detective Campbell—Brooklyn North Homicide, I’m working an investigation that has some similarities with a case you recently worked.”

“What case is that?” Cassidy queried with mounting curiosity.

“The Green Belt Nine. I was wondering if you knew of any link that case might have with prostitution, specifically prostitutes in Brooklyn?” Dt. Campbell asked. 

“You’re working that prostitute murder?” Cassidy asked with surprise.

“Yes, do you know of a connection with the Greenbelt killings?” Dt. Campbell asked again, now intrigued.

“No—no, I just recalled hearing something about your investigation a few days ago,” Cassidy explained dismissively. 

“Well, right now we’re just running down leads,” Dt. Campbell casually explained. “We don’t know if this particular lead has any significance, but we’re looking into everything. Can you think of anything that might connect your Greenbelt killings with the murder of a 37-year-old Brooklyn prostitute?” 

“Ah—not off hand,” Cassidy returned, confused. “What exactly do you have?”

“Well, our victim, a Miss Kelley Graham, died of severe blood loss, but we found an impression in the wound that could be a bite mark.”

“The killer bit her?” Cassidy returned with surprise.

“We’re not sure it’s a bite, but if it is, it had to be an animal of some kind,” Dt. Campbell responded. “The indentations are like what was found on some of the Greenbelt Nine victims.”

“We never found out what was behind those markings,” Cassidy said nonchalantly. “But if you find a connection, I would be interested in hearing it.”

“It’s probably just a coincidence,” Dt. Campbell mused. “But if we find anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks,” Cassidy responded.

Even before she hung up, Cassidy’s mind was fuming with angry thoughts and sick with fear. The idea that the Dacia Vampires were killing mortals had her terrified about what might happen if she alerted the world to their existence. She briefly entertained the idea that the Dacia Vampires were breaking their promise to her, then quickly dismissed it. Killing a prostitute and leaving her body out to be found made no sense to Cassidy. Her mind took hold of the possibility that she was mistaken, rationalized several reasons why that should be true, and then she concluded that it was all wishful thinking. After thoughtful consideration, Cassidy decided she needed more information and hurried out of the squad room with her cellphone in hand.

After walking out onto the sidewalk in front of the 13th Precinct, Cassidy initiated a speed dial on her cellphone to the vampire she had been most conversant with of late. After six rings someone on the other end picked up.

“This is a surprise,” Brooke humorously chided.

“Who did it?” Cassidy challenged.

“What are you talking about now?” Brooke queried somberly.

“You know what I'm talking about,” Cassidy growled under her breath. “The prostitute.”

“Okay, Cassidy, you're being even more bizarre than usual,” Brooke countered in a dreary voice. “What are we talking about?”

“There's a dead prostitute in the morgue with bite marks in her neck—vampire bite marks,” Cassidy sternly whispered back. “Now tell me who did it?”

Cassidy's request for a name was followed by a moment of silence, then the call disconnected. Cassidy was shocked by the sudden dial tone coming from her cellphone. She was infuriated that Brooke had deliberately disconnected the call. Thinking the disconnect may have been accidental, she redialed and waited for a pickup. After seventeen rings, Cassidy concluded that Brooke was not going to answer, so she put away her cellphone and setoff for her squad room. Cassidy was distracted with worries and gave no notice to passing co-workers. Her mind was too busy considering choices and consequences.

“Personal business?” Dt. Washington asked as Cassidy passed her desk.

“What?” Cassidy asked as she stopped and turned toward the speaker with a confused expression.

Dt. Washington was surprised to see Cassidy's distraction and intrigued by it. She suddenly felt emboldened and elected to press her advantage.

“I was just saying you seem to have a lot of personal emergencies,” Dt. Washington gently reproved. “You do know that the job of a Police Detective is a full-time occupation and not volunteered charity work?”

Cassidy took a second to give her coworker a disapproving scowl before moving on to her desk.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“Hello little brother,” _Nadja_ greeted as she and _Petru_ stepped across the threshold of David’s _(Cristiãn)_ front door.

The little brother moniker was a jest that _Nadja_ infrequently used. She and David were born human twins. _Nadja_ assigned herself the distinction of being the elder sibling because she became a vampire nearly two years before her brother. She and her mate, _Petru_ , were residents of Paris, France. David _(Cristiãn)_ learned of their arrival to New York and their intention to visit him in a telephone call late last night. _Nadja_ and _Petru_ were the names given to them when they were humans more than two-thousand years ago. Simone Deveaux and Armel Valcourt were the names and identities that they assumed for public use.

“Hi,” David _(Cristiãn)_ greeted them as he shut the door.

After closing the door, David _(Cristiãn)_ led his guests into the living room of his condominium. _Nadja_ and _Petru_ took seats on the sofa without waiting for an invite. As family members with many past visits to David’s home, social conventions were nonexistent.

“This isn't a social visit?” David _(Cristiãn)_ questioned.

“What makes you say that?” _Nadja_ asked slightly suspicious.

“You're staying in the Greenwich house,” David _(Cristiãn)_ asserted the obvious.

_Nadja_ quickly picked up on David’s _(Cristiãn)_ logic. Generally, they spent their New York visits with David _(Cristiãn)_. When the Dacia Vampires gathered in the States, the vacation house in Greenwich was always the location for their meetings. It provided seclusion and its easy distance from New York City made it the preferable location. When numerous Vampires were coming in for a meeting, staying at David’s _(Cristiãn)_ condo in the city was an inconvenience.

“We're here with _Stefan_ and _Helga_ ,” _Petru_ returned.

Petru was David’s maker which gave them a strong intuitive connection to each other. Their connection surpassed _Nadja_ and David's biological connection as human siblings and as vampire offspring of the same maker.

“Then it's definitely not a social visit,” David _(Cristiãn)_ concluded. “So, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until tonight?”

“It's possible that a newborn immortal is running loose in New York,” _Petru_ advised.

_Petru_ ’s words surprised David _(Cristiãn)_. He could sense that something serious was brewing, but a stray vampire roaming the city of New York was not on his list of possibilities.

“ _Razvan_?” David _(Cristiãn)_ queried with a look of surprise.

“Yes,” _Petru_ returned.

_Petru_ ’s one-word answer reflected his understanding that David _(Cristiãn)_ was asking who made this vampire.

“Just one?” David _(Cristiãn)_ quickly asked.

“As far as we know?” _Petru_ answered solemnly.

David _(Cristiãn)_ sat back to consider the information he had just heard. Suddenly, the peculiar behavior and activity he had been seeing and hearing made sense.

“So, that's why _Stefan_ and _Helga_ gave me a visit last week,” David _(Cristiãn)_ knowingly mumbled. “They could have told me then.”

“There has been some concern voiced about your relationship with Dt. Tremaine.” _Petru_ tactfully stated.

David _(Cristiãn)_ noticed the care _Petru_ put into his words.

“It's decided that we should keep this a secret from her,” _Nadja_ spoke into the silence.

“ _Lucian_ wants to keep Cassidy in the dark?” David _(Cristiãn)_ quickly questioned.

_Nadja_ and _Petru_ ignored David’s reflex response.

“Would you have told her?” _Nadja_ calmly asked.

David _(Cristiãn)_ had not considered that question until now. The idea of lying to Cassidy had ceased to become a consideration since his reveal to her that he was a vampire.

“If she asked…, yes.” David _(Cristiãn)_ answered. 

David _(Cristiãn)_ took a deep breath and considered his two messengers while they watched him.

“What does _Stefan_ want from me?” David _(Cristiãn)_ asked.

“We need everyone onboard with this,” _Petru_ flatly returned. “We can't afford the time and effort to dance around you.”

Now David _(Cristiãn)_ knew that this meeting was _Petru_ 's idea. He could sense from the pheromones coming off him that _Petru_ had argued for his inclusion in this hunt. What he could not sense was their decision about Cassidy, which prompted his next question.

“Cassidy?”

“Not Cassidy,” _Nadja_ quickly answered.

“She might be able to help,” David _(Cristiãn)_ argued.

“And she might kill us all,” _Nadja_ countered sternly.

“I think we have to take that risk,” David _(Cristiãn)_ continued to argue.

“ _Lucian_ disagrees,” _Petru_ calmly reported.

_Lucian_ was the chosen leader of the Dacia Vampires. It was agreed that he would make decisions for the whole when the group could not be assembled fast enough to vote on matters that concerned them all.

“I think this is a mistake,” David _(Cristiãn)_ heaved after a thought.

“ _Cristiãn_ , all we have to do is find McGuire and end this,” _Nadja_ insisted. “Cassidy doesn't need to know anything about it.”

“It has been more than a month. How do you know that you're dealing with just one newborn?” David _(Cristiãn)_ implored. “No one chooses to go through eternity alone.”

“Well, that's not quite true, is it brother?” _Nadja_ taunted.

David _(Cristiãn)_ hesitated just long enough to explore a response to _Nadja_ 's insinuation. He knew that she was speaking about his solitary situation. It had long been her wish and her efforts to find him a mate. He decided against taking the bait and turned his thoughts back to the argument he was making.

“You know once it starts, the spread will happen quickly,” David _(Cristiãn)_ declared with emphasis. “A newborn immortal will turn family members, friends, lovers, allies—anyone he wants or needs. And each new immortal will do the same. Eventually there will be no stopping it without a purge.”

“That's why we have to find Tony McGuire and anyone he turned as quickly as possible,” _Petru_ urged.

David _(Cristiãn)_ recognized that _Nadja_ and _Petru_ were not here to discuss what they should do. They were here to instruct him on what he will do.

“I can't lie to Cassidy,” David _(Cristiãn)_ confessed apologetically.

“I know,” _Petru_ softly acknowledged. “Just don't volunteer the information.”

“If she finds out on her own then we'll have to tell her,” _Nadja_ supported. “But we need to keep her in the dark for as long as possible.”

“We need you in on this,” _Petru_ added.

“Okay,” David _(Cristiãn)_ solemnly agreed. “Tell _Stefan_ I won't go to Cassidy with it.”

“Good,” _Nadja_ retorted as she and _Petru_ got up from the sofa. “We need you in the loop,” she continued while slowly moving toward the door.

David _(Cristiãn)_ pensively followed _Nadja_ and _Petru_. As they reached the door, David _(Cristiãn)_ stopped with his hand on the knob to mull over a new thought. After contemplating a moment, David _(Cristiãn)_ turned back to face his sister and her mate.

“Tell me this,” David _(Cristiãn)_ began tentatively. “What happens if this spills out among the mortals?”

_Nadja_ and _Petru_ hesitated to respond to David’s _(Cristiãn)_ question. For a moment they deferred to each other to make the reply. David _(Cristiãn)_ wanted to know how Cassidy would be affected if the humans learned of their existence. The question was important because she could identify them all by name and with pictures. All the Dacia Vampires were skeptical of Cassidy’s purported file that would automatically go public if anything happened to her. With the possibility that she was bluffing in mind, the answer they were trying to avoid was the calculation that they would have little reason to keep Cassidy alive and a larger reason for killing her quickly.

“Don't go there, _Cristiãn_ ,” _Nadja_ pleaded while gently laying her hand on his arm. “Let's do this now and leave tomorrow for tomorrow.”

David _(Cristiãn)_ gave _Nadja_ an affirming nod before opening the door.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

Cassidy was approaching the parking space in front of her home when a car door opened a few spaces ahead. At first, she gave the occupant climbing out of the front passenger’s seat little notice. A moment later she was startled to see that the passenger resembled Brooke. Immediately after parking her car, shutting off the engine and stepping out of it, Cassidy saw Ronald sitting behind the steering wheel of the car.

“Come on,” Cassidy urged her children, Cynthia and John, from the back seat of the car.

Cassidy hurried up to the front door of her house with Cynthia and John in tow. She stopped at the door and looked back at Brooke who was still standing by her car. After giving her a moment’s study, Cassidy turned her attention to unlocking the door.

“Who's that, mommy?” Cynthia asked.

“Nobody, baby,” Cassidy quickly assured. “Go to your rooms and change your clothes,” she directed in a rush while holding the door open.

The children raced gleefully into the house and off to their rooms. Cassidy briefly watched and listened from just inside the front door, then she went back outside closing the door behind her. She hurried down the front steps and angrily strode toward a passively postured Brooke.

“What are you doing here?” Cassidy demanded as she stopped at least a dozen feet away from Brooke.

“You called me,” Brooke disputed.

Brooke took a step forward, and Cassidy responded with a half step back. Brooke noted the Cassidy’s trepidation and took a half step back with resentment and dismay.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be quick,” Brooke glibly assured. “You know how I hate standing out in the sun.”

“Yeah, I can smell you rotting,” Cassidy snidely returned.

“I doubt that,” Brooke articulated with a haughty air of indifference. “But you, however, smell delicious,” she continued with a sly smile.

“What do you want?” Cassidy countered with stifled rage.

“I want to know about the prostitute,” Brooke explained with a new seriousness.

“I told you on the phone, and you hung up on me,” Cassidy testily returned.

“We don't discuss immortal business across electronic devices,” Brooke scolded. “I told you that.”

“So, you come to my home,” Cassidy nearly bellowed with rage.

“You told us to stop coming to your job,” Brooke forcefully emphasized. “Now tell me about the damn prostitute.”

Cassidy glared at Brooke before succinctly conceding to her demand.

“I told you, a Brooklyn prostitute was found dead in an alley. She had a neck wound, and the cause of death was severe blood loss.”

“What makes you think a vampire killed her?” Brooke challenged.

“They found teeth indentations in the wound,” Cassidy fiercely insisted, “indentations that match the findings on the Greenbelt Nine victims.”

Brooke's expression changed, showing her discomfort with Cassidy's report. Cassidy was quick to note the change in Brooke's disposition. Her belligerent attitude instantly changed into an inquisitive one.

“Was she killed by a vampire?” Cassidy continued in a gentler tone.

“Anything is possible,” Brooke returned dismissively.

“Is someone in your group behind the killing?” Cassidy softly questioned with a step forward.

“No.” Brooke quickly insisted.

“Are there vampires here who are not part of your group?” Cassidy asked with an inquisitive stare.

“None that I know of,” Brooke answered nonchalantly.

Brooke's indirect answers set off an alarm in Cassidy's mind. She hesitated a moment before continuing her query in a sterner tone of voice.

“Could there be vampires here who are not part of your group?”

Brooke became angry with Cassidy's tone and immediately came to the realization that she was being interrogated; and that aggravated her even more.

“Yeah,” Brooke snidely concurred. “And it could have been killer clowns from outer space.”

Cassidy knew from Brooke's cynical response that she was not going to get anything beyond what she had heard so far. Her own belligerence returned in response, prompting her to speak with annoyance.

“If I find out that you’re lying to me…”

“I’m not lying to you,” Brooke sharply interrupted. “None of us did that killing.”

Cassidy examined Brooke's face for signs that she was hiding something.

“Is there anything more that you can tell me about the prostitute?” Brooke queried into the mounting silence between them.

“What do you want to know?” Cassidy asked back with a confused expression.

“Are there any suspects?” Brooke asked as if spoke the obvious.

“I'm not working the investigation,” Cassidy returned with an irritation. “And the detectives investigating the case are not going to give out that information.”

Brooke was clearly disheartened by Cassidy's answer and stepped back in frustration.

“So, that's it?” Cassidy asked.

“That's it,” Brooke responded as she turned and opened the passenger door of her car.

“Don't come here again,” Cassidy vociferously insisted before turning toward her house.

Brooke stopped in the doorway of her car when she heard Cassidy's parting remark.

“You know, you should really consider therapy for that paranoia,” Brooke called back.

Cassidy stopped and turned back to watch Brooke get into her car. Seconds after Brooke closed the front passenger door, Ronald drove out of the parking space. As the car rolled off down the street, Cassidy reviewed the conversation she just had with Brooke. The more she thought about it, the more suspicious she became. Cassidy noted that she had more questions now than when she started. And that it was not Brooke’s answers that was bothering her, it was her questions.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“Hi, Pat,” Jeremiah greeted with a wide smile.

Patricia Boyd was shocked by Jeremiah’s sudden appearance. At first, she had no idea who the man was that hurried to her side, and she reflectively inched away. After a moment of examination, she noticed a familiarity between the stranger and a regular customer of the Denny’s Restaurant where she worked as a waitress. She quickly dismissed the possibility that he was that customer because of the obvious age difference between this man and the customer she was thinking of. It was past eleven pm, and Patricia Boyd was on her way home from work.

“Hi,” Patricia testily returned while increasing her pace.

“You’re finished for the night?” Jeremiah questioned as he quickened his steps to keep up with Patricia.

“Do I know you?” Patricia asked peevishly without slowing.

“You don’t recognize me?” Jeremiah questioned back with a pronounced smile.

Patricia slowed her pace to give Jeremiah’s face another brief study.

“You look sort of familiar,” Patricia hesitantly acknowledged. “But I don’t—I’m not placing you,” she puzzled out. “I have to go,” she finished while resuming her earlier pace.

Jeremiah kept pace with Patricia while smiling her way.

“Table nine—seven o’clock—tea with lemon,” Jeremiah gleefully hinted.

Patricia quickly made the connection between the hint and the person he was speaking of, and that man was the person she thought he resembled. Patricia came to a sudden stop to re-examine the stranger speaking to her. She looked him over with a surprised expression.

“I look different, don’t I?” Jeremiah proudly questioned with both his arms extended out to his sides.

“Yeah, you do,” Patricia grumbled. “What happened?” She testily asked while resuming her walk.

“It’s a new drug,” Jeremiah lied as he matched Patricia’s pace. “How would you like to try it? I have some in my car.”

“You know what, I just want to go home,” Patricia angrily insisted as she quickened her pace even more.

Jeremiah increased his pace while responding to her declaration with a pleading intonation.

“Aw come on, I promise you’ll love it.”

“I don’t want your drug, and I don’t want your company. So, go away,” Patricia growled with fury.

“Hey, I’m offering you a chance of a lifetime,” Jeremiah insisted with a smile.

Patricia Boyd was a petite twenty-year-old who was exceedingly pretty and very street savvy. She sported tattoos on her arms and a ring through her nose. For Patricia, men were mostly fun, and she enjoyed their attentions. She was not above engaging in casual sex when she liked a man, but Jeremiah was not one of those men. Despite his new youthful look, Patricia found the small, thin, funny looking man, too unattractive and weird. She was determined to brush Jeremiah off, and she was now prepared to speak bluntly to do it.

“Listen, creep, get lost!” Patricia stopped to yell at the man before turning and storming away.

“Hey, come on,” Jeremiah spoke in a semi-pleading tone as he hurried to keep up with Patricia. “Let me buy you dinner. Where would you like to go?”

Patricia gave Jeremiah an angry look out the corner of her eyes while she hurried along.

“You need to leave me alone before I call the police,” Patricia warned in a stern voice.

“Okay, okay,” Jeremiah agreed beseechingly while still matching Patricia’s stride. “But before I go, let me tell you something.”

“What?” Patricia asked without slowing her pace.

“Well, it’s like this…,” Jeremiah began to speak, then stopped while maintaining his position by Patricia’s side.

Patricia glanced at her tagalong and wondered why he stopped speaking. She did not think she was in any great danger at that moment despite the late hour. She was walking down was large and well-lit street. Most of the businesses in the vicinity were closed, but cars continued to roll by just often enough for there always to be someone coming around. Pedestrians were few and distant, but just enough of them for Patricia to feel that someone would hear her scream if it came down to a scuffle. She was confident in her ability to give this man a struggle; but Jeremiah had a different estimation of her situation.

Jeremiah had been fixated on Patricia for eight long months. His frequent patronage of the restaurant where she worked was motivated by his desire to see her. She was the latest girl of his dreams and one of dozens over the past twenty years that considered him too old for a romantic relationship. Numerous past failures, starting from the age of forty, taught him to be circumspect about his intentions. Embarrassing rejections caused him to limit his appetite for sex to prostitutes and drug addicts, but his new situation now made him believe that Patricia was his for the taking.

“What?” Patricia demanded after waiting several seconds. “What do you want to tell me?”

Jeremiah was stalling for time. He knew Patricia’s route home, and he prepared things for the situation. After another three steps, Jeremiah reached into his pocket and pulled out a remote car key fob. When he pressed one of the buttons on the fob, the trunk to his BMW X4 popped open. It took Patricia a couple of seconds to realize what was happening, but that 2 seconds more than she had to move out of reach. Jeremiah snatched her up off her feet with startling speed and had his hand over her mouth before she could scream. The strength of his hold was far beyond Patricia’s ability to wriggle free. Jeremiah quickly carried her over to the trunk of his car, bit into her jugular and began siphoning her blood. He wasted no time. Jeremiah calculated that speed would be necessary for success.

Patricia’s mind went from fear to terror when she felt Jeremiah's teeth sink into her neck. Her struggles doubled in intensity, but her efforts had no effect. Jeremiah held her tightly within his arms while keeping a large portion of her neck pinched between his teeth and lips. For a little more than a minute he held her beneath the shadow of the hood of his trunk and relentlessly drank her blood until she lost consciousness. Jeremiah lifted her into his arms and lowered her into the trunk while continuing to siphon her blood. It took just over two minutes for Patricia’s heart to beat its last. Its fading pulsations were easy for Jeremiah’s vampire senses to detect. When he was satisfied that she was dead, Jeremiah bit into the palm of his hand, and then he dripped his blood into Patricia’s mouth. When he was convinced that a enough of his blood was in her throat, Jeremiah closed Patricia inside the trunk of his car, got behind the steering wheel and drove off with his catch.

When Jeremiah arrived at his house, he used the cover of night to sneak Patricia's lifeless body from the trunk of his car and into his house. When he was secure inside the house, he carried Patricia’s lifeless body down the basement and placed her on a makeshift bed of blankets, pillows and sheets that he had created on the floor. Then he padlocked one end of a ten-foot-long chain above her left ankle. The other end of the chain was padlocked around a steel center support column. When he was done installing Patricia in his basement prison, Jeremiah used the remainder of the night to admire and fondle his catch.


	11. Hide and Seek

It was shortly after 1pm, Tuesday, when Cassidy arrived at the front entrance to the Cavern Nightclub. The door was open, and deliveries were being made. A young, male employee of the club intercepted Cassidy as she approached the entrance.

“Can I help you?” The employee pleasantly asked.

Cassidy pulled her badge and ID case out from her inside jacket pocket and displayed the contents as she spoke.

“Is David Burrell in? I'd like to speak with him.”

“Yes ma'am—officer,” the employee corrected with a gesture toward the interior of the club. “He's in the main room.”

Cassidy stepped carefully around some stacked crates and walked through the entrance. The interior was only dimly lit. Usually, much of the lighting was off in the club when it was open for business. The usual music and noise were also absent. The lack of noise made the sound of David's voice easy for Cassidy to follow. She walked through the passageway between the entrance and the main room and spotted David behind the bar talking with a supplier while examining an invoice. As soon as she fixed her eyes on David, he looked up and saw her. The conversation with the supplier came to a sudden stop. They briefly held each other’s gaze with a mix of surprise and apprehension. Snapping himself from his reverie, David signed the paperwork in front of him and quickly ushered the supplier away.

“Hi,” David gently greeted as he made his way out from behind the bar. “It's been a while,”

Cassidy maintained her silence while David continued to make his way to her. His usual expensively tailored suit was missing. In its place was a pair of dark slacks and a white tieless shirt, unbuttoned at the top and rolled up sleeves.

“You look well,” David softly offered as he stopped in front of her.

Cassidy held her stance while heaving away stress in slow breaths. She was dressed in a dark gray pants suit and a white-collared shirt. She wore sensible shoes, and her hair was casual and neatly cut. Her normally present messenger bag was presently missing.

“We need to talk,” Cassidy declared with soft insistence.

David understood that Cassidy was requesting a private conversation. He knew that only something sensitive and important could motivate her to come to him. He agreed to her request without reservation and then ushered her into his office. Cassidy maintained a discrete distance from David as she followed him into his office, and he was careful to respect that distance. After David closed the office door he went as far away from Cassidy that he could manage without getting behind his desk. Cassidy waited for him to take his position before taking two steps toward the center of the office. An awkward silence followed. Neither knew how to act around the other. The last time they were alone together, they were in the throes of passion, but that was before Cassidy knew that David was the vampire _Cristiãn_.

“Are you okay?” David practically whispered.

Cassidy noticed the concern in his expression. For a few seconds, her façade of indifference began to melt away, but then she managed to push her emotion aside.

“Brooke visited me yesterday,” Cassidy stated sternly.

Cassidy noticed that David fidgeted a little to her revelation.

“And?” He asked hesitantly.

“She wanted to know about a prostitute found murdered in a Brooklyn alley,” Cassidy continued.

David knew about Brooke’s conversation with Cassidy. He got that information when Brooke passed it on to the entire Dacia Vampire Alliance. Because he already knew everything that Cassidy was saying, he chose to remain silent until asked a direct question. He was reluctant to lie to Cassidy and feared he could not.

“There's a vampire out there killing people,” Cassidy expounded after suddenly realizing that David already knew about her conversation with Brooke.

“He's not one of us,” David quickly asserted.

“Brooke lied to me,” Cassidy angrily countered.

“ _Adrianna_ (Brooke) wasn't sure,” David quickly defended. “That's why she wanted to know about the murder.”

“But she suspected,” Cassidy shot back.

David hesitated to respond.

“Yes,” he softly replied.

“How long has this been going on?” Cassidy bellowed.

“This is the first… event that we’ve heard about,” David carefully asserted.

“The first?” Cassidy blasted with a startled expression. “Then why—what makes you think that a vampire outside of your—your group, coven or whatever, did the killing? And where did this other vampire come from?”

“ _Razvan_ ,” David responded in a word.

“ _Razvan_?” Cassidy questioned back with a confused look.

“ _Razvan_ and _Dumitra_ turned Tony McGuire into an immortal,” David confessed somberly. “You met him—the Ecstasy—the basement.”

It only took Cassidy a second to connect what David was saying to an image of the person he was speaking of. Her memory of this person was clear. As she recalled the memory, new thoughts and questions began to percolate.

“That was over a month ago,” she exclaimed with surprise. “They’ve been keeping this from me for almost two months?”

David gave no response. He was afraid that anything he said, other than a lie, would anger her further.

“Nothing?” Cassidy scolded after several seconds of silence.

Cassidy was shocked by David’s nonresponse and began to fume over his silence. In her mind the act of not telling her about this murdering vampire violated the gist of the agreement she made with _Lucian_. Her mind went to thoughts about what else she did not know. And then she began to think about what it was she should know about these beings. Shortly, Cassidy came to the realization that she had spent the past two months distancing herself from vampires. Eventually, her thoughts and eyes settled on David, as a relative calm returned to her.

“And you, how long have you known about this?” Cassidy asked with a fixed stare.

“I was told Saturday,” David reported in a solemn voice.

“Saturday?” Cassidy challenged with dismay. “Why—why Saturday?” she asked with a frown.

“They didn’t want me to know,” David gently returned.

“They didn’t want you…” Cassidy began.

Before she could finish her response, Cassidy realized why the other vampires would not want David to know about a rogue vampire in New York City. Her demeanor toward David quickly softened. She understood that the other vampires feared he would reveal their secret to her.

“Okay,” Cassidy acknowledged with her eyes cast down toward the floor. “Well, what are they doing? Why haven’t they found Tony McGuire?” She inquired after a hesitation.

“We believe he’s hiding,” David explained. “We could use your help searching for him. We need to know everything that’s out there to know about him.”

“Okay,” Cassidy agreed with little thought. “I’ll run his name, and I’ll get that to you tomorrow. Will you be here?”

“Yes,” David confirmed with a nod.

“Ah, yeah, good,” Cassidy acknowledged hesitantly while inching back toward the door.

Cassidy could think of nothing more to say on the subject. Her anger was spent. All she had left now was the prospect of ending the conversation and leaving David’s presence, which she felt a reluctance to do. Despite all that she had learned, it was the confirmation that David would not lie to her that had the greatest effect. The romantic feelings she once had for David were aroused back into full force. She stared into David’s eyes for a few seconds more, took a deep breath, then turned and went to the door.

“Cassidy,” David called as she reached for the doorknob.

Cassidy stopped and turned to hear what David had to say. David suspected there was an emotional struggle going on inside Cassidy, but he was determined to respect the distance she maintained between them.

“Thank you,” he offered in a soft voice.

In that instant, Cassidy felt an urge to close the distance between them. She knew that if he came to her, she would not run, and she would not resist. She waited there for several seconds, and then she turned and left the office.

It was not until she distanced herself from David, in both location and thoughts, that she began to process the information he had shared. She wondered why the Dacia Vampires did not act on the information about Tony McGuire when they first learned of his existence. It seemed to Cassidy that McGuire should have been easy to find when he was first turned into a vampire. Then her thoughts began to wonder why _Razvan_ and _Dumitra_ would reveal the existence of Vampire McGuire to ther other members of the Dacia Coven. By Cassidy’s reasoning, _Razvan_ and _Dumitra_ had to have told them about Tony McGuire in the hours before they were beheaded. These questions nagged at her for several minutes; then her job took precedent and she pushed the confusion to the back of her list of things to clarify.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“Read ‘em and weep,” Malcolm gleefully howled as he threw his cards on the table.

It was early Tuesday night. Charlie, Ben, Malcolm and Keegan were in the back room of Tony’s new stash house. The room was originally designed to be used as a storage area for a business. At present, it was just a vacant room that was in disarray because of unfinished renovations. The construction equipment, tools and supplies lying about was evidence that the work on the building had stopped in mid progress. The walls of the back room were stripped of paneling, and the electrical wiring and fixtures were waiting to be upgraded. Charlie, Ben, Malcolm and Keegan were playing poker seated in folding chairs around a foldout table. Multiple lanterns were illuminating the room.

“Yeah, get cocky,” Charlie sullenly encouraged. “I'm going to enjoy taking your money from you.”

An indifferent Keegan began collecting the cards while Malcolm collected his poker chips with a wide smile. Charlie watched the activity on the table with mounting frustration while Ben stared off with an expression of contained rage.

“Ha, ha,” Malcolm grinned while stacking his chips. “Maybe we should raise the stakes.”

“That's right kid,” Charlie scoffed. “Keep grinning.”

“Nobody should be grinning,” Ben exploded with fury. “You should be angry. You should all be mad as hell. I know I am.”

“What are you mad about?” Keegan stopped shuffling to ask.

“Angry about being cooped up here doing nothing,” Ben bellowed as though he were speaking the obvious.

Malcolm and Keegan were confused by Ben’s outrage. They did not understand where this level of anger was coming from.

“We’re guarding the coke,” Keegan explained.

“We’re guarding their coke,” Ben argued. “It’s not like we’re going to get equal shares of the money.”

Malcolm and Keegan were surprised by Ben's statements. They did not know how to respond in a way that would not anger him further.

“What’s buzzing around in your head, Ben?” Charlie growled at his longtime friend.

Ben paid no attention to Charlie's inquiry. He was too busy searching for words to vocalize his thoughts.

“And where the hell are they?” Ben continued to rant. “What are they doing? Jerry said he was coming back tonight.”

“Call and ask,” Keegan casually spoke as he went back to shuffling the cards.

“Don’t you get it?” Ben snapped at Keegan ferociously. “We’ve been reborn. We’re vampires. We’re gods, and we’re sitting around here waiting for Jerry and Tony to tell us to take out the garbage like we’re their flunkies.”

“I’m nobody’s flunky,” Charlie roared.

Malcolm and Keegan were surprised once again, but it was Charlie motivating the condition.

“Ben has a point,” Charlie continued with less belligerence. “It’s not like they’re better than us.”

“Come on, guys, we can’t change the plan now,” Malcolm placated. “We need to work the plan and deal with all of this later.”

“I’m not talking about changing the plan,” Ben vehemently insisted. “I’m talking about us sitting here for two days now while Tony and Jerry are out there doing… whatever the fuck they're doing.”

Once again Malcolm and Keegan were surprised by the level of anger they were seeing from Ben and now Charlie.

“There’s nothing we can do about that now,” Keegan asserted in support of Malcolm.

“Yeah, well, you wait,” Ben growled as he stood up from his chair.” I’ve got better things to do.”

Ben gathered up his jacket and started toward the rear door of the building.

“Ben, you can't leave,” Malcolm stridently insisted while rising to his feet. “Tony told us to stay here.”

“Why are we taking orders from Tony?” Charlie argued with an angry grumble. “We're vampires. We shouldn't be taking orders from anyone.”

Ben stopped to hear Charlie's complaint. He turned to continue to leave when Keegan voiced a valid point.

“Ben, the cops can't find out about us. Tony is right about that.”

“I'm not going to expose us,” Ben insisted with a huff of exasperation. “I got personal business to deal with and I'm not sitting around here doing nothing while Tony and Jerry are out there doing whatever the fuck they want to do. I'll be back Thursday.”

“What do I tell Tony if he comes back before then and he has something for us to do?” Malcolm asked with a hint of hysteria.

“If that happens, tell him I said wait until I get back,” Ben defiantly answered with a glower.

At that point, Ben turned around and opened the back door.

“Wait!” Charlie exclaimed before Ben could step through the doorway. “You’ve got the car keys.”

“I’m taking the car,” Ben yelled without looking back from the open doorway.

Despite his overtures and preparations to leave, Malcolm and Keegan were still surprised to see Ben walk out the door and drive off in his Lincoln Town Car. Charlie looked to be indifferent.

Charlie, Malcolm and Keegan shared Ben's annoyance with the situation. Their newly acquired vampire strength and vigor had them all feeling like caged adolescent tigers. The only things that was keeping any of them in the building at night was the job that they were there to do and the absence of a pressing need to be someplace else. However, both excuses were wearing thin with all of them because of mental fatigue, and this was exceedingly true for Charlie and Ben.

Malcolm and Keegan had not slept for 48 hours, and Charlie and Ben had not slept for 72. None of them felt a physical need to sleep because they spent all their time inside and away from the sun. They did nothing to exert themselves to any extreme and they made nightly runs to the local grocery for food. The fatigue that was developing in Malcolm and Keegan's minds was not visibly noticeable. The reason for Charlie and Ben's ignorance about their small shifts in moods to irritability was due to their inexperience with vampire mental fatigue.

Ben’s departure ended all interest in poker for the guys. Malcolm turned his attention to the E-mail on his smartphone. Keegan began playing solitaire and Charlie turned his thoughts inward as he periodically paced the rooms of the building one at a time. Malcolm and Keegan noticed Charlie’s growing agitation. A couple of hours later, Malcolm and Keegan were playing darts as a grumbling Charlie was impatiently pacing the storage room.

“That’s it,” Charlie growled as he snatched up his jacket and started for the back door. “I’m out of here.”

“Where are you going, Charlie?” Malcolm called out in a hurry.

“Someplace not so boring,” Charlie angrily returned. “I’ll be back in the morning,” he exclaimed while opening the door.

Before Malcolm could say anything more, Charlie was through the doorway. Malcolm and Keegan watched in astonishment as the door clanged shut behind him.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

It was just past 10pm, Tuesday, when Charlie left the stash house. Without Ben’s Lincoln Town Car for a ride, he had to use public transportation to make his way to the apartment of Paula Cross, three years ago they considered themselves an item. It was 1:18am when he arrived outside Paula’s apartment door. He had knocked on her door for more than a minute before he heard movement on the other side.

“Who is it?” Paula called through the door.

“It’s me,” Charlie answered loudly. “Charlie.”

“Charlie… Charlie Panko?” Paula questioned with surprise.

“Yeah, open the door,” Charlie returned.

“What do you want?”

“Let me in,” Charlie commanded gruffly.

“Go away, Charlie,” Paula yelled back.

“Babe, come on, open the door,” Charlie nearly pleaded. “I need to show you something.”

“Show me what?”

“Open the door and I’ll show you,” Charlie spoke softly into the door. “I promise, you’re going to love it.”

A prolonged silence followed. Paula tried to suppress her inclination to open the door. Memories of her time with Charlie were not distasteful, especially when she measured them against most of the other men in her past. In Paula’s mind, the only downside to Charlie was the fact that she was never seriously attracted to him. Her time with Charlie was motivated by money and the fact that she was not involved with anyone else at during that period. Charlie was often flush with money through his association with Tony McGuire, but this condition did not last. Charlie was reduced to living on a slender income when his windfall dried up, and so did his appeal to Paula. She met other men with more in money and appeal, and she soon went to work at pushing him away. It took a stint in jail after putting one of her lovers in the hospital to end Charlie’s thinking that Paula belongs to him alone. Despite this ending, Charlie and Paula maintained an on and off, love hate, acquaintance.

“What happened to you?” Paula asked as she looked at Charlie through the partially opened door.

“Big things, Babe,” Charlie declared with enthusiasm.

“But you look different,” Paula spoke with astonishment.

Paula could not stop staring at Charlie’s youthful appearance. Charlie leaned in bit closer so that she could get a better look.

“I am different,” Charlie softly replied. “Come on, let me in,” he implored with a sly smile. “This is just the beginning.”

Paula was more than a little intrigued by Charlie’s excitement. She wanted to know why he looked so youthful. His appearance had not improved so much that it caused her to be physically attracted to him, but it did make her wonder if there was money behind his new look.

Paula was not afraid of Charlie. It was his gentle nature when it came to her that sustained their acquaintance. She had no problem with letting him into her apartment beyond the likelihood of them having sex. She suspected sex would be the price she would have to pay to avoid a scuffle to get him to leave, and if Charlie was back into big money it was a price she was willing to pay.

“Okay,” Paula responded just before closing the door and unlatching the chain.

A moment later the door reopened fully. Charlie rushed in and scooped Paula up off the floor by the waist. He spun her around twice with a wide grin on his face. The speed of his act took her by surprise. For a moment, she lost her breath.

“Put me down,” Paula complained when her breath returned.

Charlie set Paula down on her feet while beaming a wide smile. The moment she was back on her feet, Paula went to the door and closed it before turning back to look at Charlie with a scowl.

“What happened to you, Charlie?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he returned with a smile. 

Charlie moved in quickly and backed Paula up against the door and then kissed her passionately on the lips. She endured the kiss for several seconds before pushing against his body as he pressed against hers. A moment later, Charlie responded to her efforts by stepping back.

“Charlie! What—how did you get like this?” Paula asked breathlessly.

“What? Don’t you like me this way?” Charlie returned with his arms spread out.

“You look twenty years younger,” Paula exclaimed in disbelief.

Paula Cross was a 42-year-old woman whose slender figure and handsome face suggested she was exceedingly attractive when she was young. She was dressed in a thigh length flimsy robe that was covering a two-piece shorty pajama set.

“I’m more than that,” Charlie countered as he stepped forward. “I’m a whole lot more than that,” he finished just before pulling Paula back into a passionate kiss.

At first, Paula made some effort to resist Charlie’s advance. Several seconds into the kiss, she surrendered to the strength and enthusiasm of his ardor. Nearly a minute into his flurry of kissing and groping, Charlie picked Paula up and rushed off to her bedroom.

The depth of physical and mental lust Charlie was feeling was overwhelming. He had never wanted Paula more than he did at that moment. He had never wanted any woman more than he wanted Paula at that moment. Paula was not only the woman of his dreams; she was the frustration that fueled his nightmares. Often, the thought of her made him angry. She was the woman that he could not decide whether to kiss or kill, but at that moment, he was determined to have his way with her.

At 3:42am, Charlie and Paula finished having sex for the last time that night. Paula curled up along Charlie’s side with her head on his shoulder panting from exhaustion. Charlie laid sprawled across the bed breathing heavily. They both were nude; their bodies glistening with sweat.

It took some time for Paula’s blissful delirium to begin to subside. Her senses had awakened enough to notice heat radiating off Charlie. She pushed herself up off the bed and reached out to touch Charlie’s naked body. The degree of heat she felt alarmed her. She was also shocked by Charlie’s suddenly aged and emaciated appearance. His labored breaths continued while he laid unmoving. To Paula he looked as though he was dying.

“Are you okay, Baby,” Paula questioned with a hint of terror in her expression. “You’re so hot.”

“Yeah,” Charlie barely huffed out.

“Do you want some water?” Paula asked with worry. “Yeah, I’ll go get you some water,” she concluded.

Paula quickly climbed out of the bed and raced out of the bedroom. Charlie was too exhausted to respond to her question in time to stop her. The best he could manage in that moment was to shake his head, but Paula’s back was to him and she did not see. A few seconds later, Paula hurried back into the bedroom with a glass of water.

“Sit up, Charlie,” Paula encouraged while pushing a helping hand under his shoulder.

“I don’t need water,” Charlie huffed as he pushed himself up against the headboard.

“Drink some anyway,” Paula encouraged. “You’re burning up.”

Charlie continued to shake his head as Paula held the glass in front of his face.

“I don’t need water,” Charlie asserted after turning his gaze to Paula with a glint of light in his eyes.

Paula was shocked by the shine of light she saw in Charlie’s pupils. She leaned back so that she could see what was happening in Charlie’s eyes. The move prompted Charlie to grab her by the arm.

“Water isn’t what I need,” Charlie huffed with a near fanatical stare.

Paula was alarmed by the strength of Charlie’s grip around her arm and the expression on his face. She wondered what she was seeing.

“What’s happened to you?” Paula asked with a confused look.

Charlie took a couple of deep breaths.

“I need to feed,” Charlie huffed out with fangs now appearing between his lips.

Paula’s concern switched into fear at the sight of Charlie’s fangs. She struggled to remove her arm from his grip.

“Let me go, Charlie,” Paula insisted with panic in her voice.

Charlie stared at Paula with a frenzied expression. A craving for blood had his brain too befuddled to think straight. Want and need was the driving force in his brain, and it was this forced that shaped his response.

“No.”

Instantly after his reply, Charlie backhanded the glass of water out of Paula’s hand, grabbed her by the head and shoulder and pulled her forward. Paula’s scream went muffled into Charlie’s shoulder while he sank his teeth into her neck.

About five minutes later Charlie finished feasting on Paula’s blood. He raised up from Paula and roared with a newfound vigor and satisfaction. His blood-stained lips and face dripped with her blood. After exalting in the return of his health, Charlie looked down at Paula’s body lying in his lap. The knowledge that he had just killed her rushed into his awareness. A moment of panic washed over him before his decision to revive her. With only a few seconds between the thought and the act, Charlie bit into the palm of his hand and began dripping his blood into Paula’s mouth.

Charlie arranged Paula’s body in the bed and covered it, head to toe, with the sheet and bedspread. He watched, waited and worried for more than hour. He did not plan to kill her, but the idea of turning her into a vampire became a pleasing thought. But he worried about the process. He was turning a human on his own for the first time, and the person he was turning had value to him. He needed this to work so that Paula could be his vampire mate.

It was a little after five in the morning when Charlie left Paula’s apartment and began his journey back to the stash house. Before leaving, Charlie left a message for Paula taped to the bathroom mirror.

_Paula, you’re okay, but you can’t leave the apartment. It’s dangerous for you outside. I’ll explain everything tomorrow night._

_Charlie_


	12. Work Exchange

“Hi,” David _(Cristiãn)_ softly spoke while holding the front door of The Cavern Nightclub open.

Cassidy stood outside the door with a mixture of dread and concern on her face before responding.

“Hi.”

David _(Cristiãn)_ urged Cassidy forward with a gesturing nod of his head. He shut the door behind her after she stepped through. Cassidy stopped just inside the entrance, took a deep breath and gave David _(Cristiãn)_ a second thoughtful look.

“You want some blood?” David _(Cristiãn)_ stoically offered.

The therapeutic property of vampire blood was something Cassidy had firsthand knowledge of. The fact that vampire blood would give her a temporary immunity to vampire pheromones gave her cause to consider the offer. After a moment of thought, Cassidy nervously shook her head no.

David’s _(Cristiãn)_ question reflected his understanding that Cassidy was uncomfortable with the location of this meeting. He thought a small amount of his blood would ease her concerns, but he was not surprised when she declined; and he marked that with a brief smile. He gave her a moment to ready herself before leading into the main room of the club. They stopped at the top of the three steps at the edge of the dining room floor. Together they looked out over the floor at Ryan Sandoval, Alexandra Hays, Ronald Hollis, Brooke Chapman, Herman Weber, Mia Bauer, Armel Valcourt and Simone Deveaux. The Dacia Vampire names that they went by when speaking with each other were _Radu_ , _Flavia_ , _Sorin_ , _Adrianna_ , _Stefan_ , _Helga_ , _Petru_ and _Nadja_. They were all seated in pairs at neighboring tables.

“So, the gang is all here,” Cassidy sighed.

It was early Wednesday morning. Cassidy requested this meeting late yesterday evening so that she could provide the group with information on Tony McGuire. Her trepidation at the door had nothing to do with the conversation she was about to have and everything to do with her unease with being in a confined space with vampires. She endured several bad experiences in the past when she was alone with several of them. Cassidy knew what they could do, and she dreaded the loss of her freewill. More than one nightmare in her recent past involved vampires seizing control of her mind.

“As you commanded,” _Stefan_ pleasantly responded as Cassidy and David _(Cristiãn)_ descended the stairs.

“You lied to me,” Cassidy angrily accused as she walked towards the group of eight.

“We withheld certain facts,” Brooke testily countered.

“You knew about this vampire and you didn’t tell me,” Cassidy disputed.

“I don’t recall that stipulation in our agreement,” _Stefan_ pondered with a feigned look of confusion.

“Bullshit! I told you no more vampire killings.”

“We—immortals—are working on it,” _Nadja_ returned with a correcting inflection. “But we could use your help.”

Cassidy paused to give _Nadja_ special attention. In her vampire nightmares, _Nadja_ was the face she was running from. Her position as the central vampire in her fears made _Nadja_ the being in the room that Cassidy most despised. Her malice toward _Nadja_ was motivated by the fact that she was the vampire who came the closes to killing her. When she recalls being at the edge of death, it is _Nadja_ ’s face that Cassidy sees, and it was the terror within that memory fueling her anger. For a brief time, Cassidy fumed at the vampire she most detested. _Nadja_ returned Cassidy’s contemptuous glare with a cool gaze.

“Here,” Cassidy announced as she turned her attention toward _Stefan_ while dropping a file jacket on his table. “That’s what I found in the system on Tony McGuire,” she finished with a point.

_Stefan_ quickly removed the paperwork from the file jacket and began scanning through them with _Helga_ ’s assistance. It was clear to Cassidy that _Stefan_ and _Helga_ were looking for something specific. It also appeared to her that _Nadja_ , _Petru_ , _Sorin_ , _Adrianna_ , _Radu_ and _Flavia_ ’s fixed attentions on them meant that they knew what was being searched for.

“What are you looking for?” Cassidy asked with a frown.

“This is useless,” _Stefan_ complained with a frustrated look. “We already have most of this information and the rest tells us nothing.”

“That’s an NYPD summary background check,” Cassidy insisted.

“There has to be more,” _Helga_ grumbled while looking through the papers.

“What are you looking for?” Cassidy asked for a second time.

_Stefan_ sat back in his chair and began examining Cassidy as he considered her question. Seconds later, he sat forward and began to speak.

“This is not enough, Detective Tremaine,” _Stefan_ gruffly asserted. “We’ve already been to all of his properties. We know about his businesses, and we don’t care about his credit card activity. We want to know is where he is now. He’s hiding. He’s not going to do something stupid. We need you to find—HIM.”

Cassidy was astounded by _Stefan’s_ directive. Cassidy suspected they did not understand the amount work that went into a manhunt for someone who was hiding, especially someone with money and resources. For several seconds Cassidy scanned the faces of the vampires in front of her with an aghast expression.

“I can’t just stop what I’m doing to go on a manhunt,” Cassidy complained with a dismayed toss of her hands.

“You do know what’s going on here?” Brooke questioned with an annoyed tone. “There’s an immortal out there, and he’s eating people.”

“You said this wouldn’t happen,” Cassidy argued back.

“The coven had nothing to do with this,” Ryan quickly defended.

“You had everything to do with this,” Cassidy roared in response to Ryan’s remark. “ _Razvan_ was one of you.”

“We don’t have time for this,” _Petru_ loudly spoke up. “Time is not on our side, Detective. You have the resources we need.”

“I’m in the middle of multiple investigations,” Cassidy stridently insisted.

“What investigations?” _Stefan_ asked.

“I’ve got a stabbing at a Pier 17 concert and a robbery/murder that I’m working,”

“A robbery/murder where?” _Stefan_ asked with a stare and a ruffled brow.

_Stefan_ ’s multiple questions on this subject made Cassidy suspicious.

“Why?”

“Curiosity,” _Stefan_ answered cavalierly.

Cassidy studied _Stefan_ for a moment.

“It was a Manhattan South bodega robbery a couple of weeks back,” Cassidy hesitantly reported “Gary Bibb, the owner, was killed,” she continued with a studious look at _Stefan_. “Does that mean something to you?” She finished with a quizzical stare.

“No, no,” _Stefan_ replied with an indifferent shrug.

Cassidy paused to consider his response.

“Those investigations are nothing,” Ronald contemptuously complained. “We need you to find McGuire now.”

“These investigations are my job,” Cassidy emphatically declared.

“You’re not hearing us,” Brooke countered. “New York is about to become an all you can eat buffet for immortals,” she stressed.

“I can’t just drop what I’m doing,” Cassidy yelled back.

“What part of buffet for immortals did you not understand?” Brooke sarcastically repeated.

“This is just going to get worst,” _Nadja_ spoke up with insistence. “McGuire will turn a mortal into an immortal, and then that immortal will do the same. They WILL grow in number. We have to stop him now.”

Cassidy was taken aback by _Nadja_ ’s words. Accusations and complaints had sharper edges when they came from her.

“You have to help us,” Alexandra pleaded with worry. “We want to stop him just as much as you do.”

Cassidy paused to consider Alexandra’s plea, then she turned to look at David _(Cristiãn)_. His silence and placid expression gave her reason to believe that he did not want to take a side, and that was all the motivation she needed to agree to their request.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can find out,” Cassidy solemnly acquiesced.

“Finally,” _Helga_ declared with exasperation. “We need the names and addresses of the people he associates with.”

“Criminal associates,” Ronald quickly explained. “Somebody has to be helping him.”

“Fine!” Cassidy angrily barked. “I’ll make some calls,” she consented with a shrug.

With nothing more to say, Cassidy turned and started for the exit. David _(Cristiãn)_ quickly followed. When _Stefan_ was sure she was out of earshot, he turned his attention toward Ryan _(Radu)_ and Alexandra _(Flavia)_. All present waited for him to speak.

“ _Radu_ — _Flavia_ ,” _Stefan_ started in a soft voice. “See what you can find out about the Pier 17 stabbing and that bodega shooting. Our Detective Tremaine seems a little too distracted for our needs right now.”

“Okay!” Alexandra gleefully accepted.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

Ryan and Alexandra were eager to take on the job that _Stefan_ had given them; it was excitement motivated by the thrill of investigating a crime. They had never done anything like that before. Up until now, they used social activities, large entertainment events and sex to negate their boredom. The prospect of doing something that was way different from anything they had done before had them exhilarated. When their glee calmed down and they began to consider the task and quickly discovered their ignorance. At first, they had no idea how to proceed. It took brainstorming for the larger part of an hour to come up with the idea of quizzing reporters who did articles on the crimes. They thought it was a good place to start.

After deciding to query one or more reporters with knowledge of the crimes, it took Ryan and Alexandra nearly half an hour of online searching to find the name Leslie Dunn, a Metro New York reporter who did in-depth stories on the Pier 17 Concert stabbing and the bodega shooting. Minutes after finding his name, Ryan and Alexandra were on their way to speak with him. The time was 9:38am.

Waiting for nightfall was not an option for Ryan and Alexandra. The people they needed to speak with were mortals, and mortals were daytime beings by nature. Ryan and Alexandra also understood that expediency was the goal. Subsequently, they fortified themselves with blood, loaded an ice chest full of blood in the back seat of their car and then set off to speak with Leslie Dunn. They found him behind his desk at his place of employment.

With the help of a few million vampire pheromones, they shortly learned from Dunn that the Police had too many suspects for the Pier 17 stabbing and none for the bodega shooting. The suspects that Dunn specified were the dozens of people known to be in the vicinity of Eric Calder when he was stabbed. The Metro New York reporter pointed out that there were hundreds of social media pictures of the concert and the vicinity where Eric Calder was stabbed. Dunn sent them 133 images of the area around the time of the stabbing via E-mail. Ryan and Alexandra viewed those pictures on their cellphones.

“So, what now, Watson?” Alexandra playfully questioned.

“Why am I Watson?” Ryan mockingly disputed.

“Because I’m Sherlock, obviously,” Alexandra insisted flippantly.

“No,” Ryan returned with a disapproving frown while shaking his head. “I see you as more of a Nancy Drew or maybe a Veronica Mars,” he finished with an analytical look.

Alexandra endured the remark with a supercilious indifference.

“That’s fine with me, but you’re still Watson,” Alexandra intoned with an impish aloofness.

Ryan smirked at Alexandra in response.

“ _Radu_ , what do we do?” Alexandra whined.

“We talk to the witness,” Ryan answered with an imperious smile.

“She said she didn’t see it happen,” Alexandra insisted a bit hysterically.

Angela Burke was the witness that Alexandra was speaking of. She went with Eric Calder to the concert. In her narrative of the events leading up to Eric’s death, he was stabbed when she was standing ahead of him and looking at the stage. She reported that she started looking for Eric when the song stopped several minutes later. In her narrative, she found him leaning against a pole after a few minutes of searching. She said she could not make out Eric’s words because of the difficulty he had speaking and the noise from the crowd. She said it was nearly ten minutes later when Eric Calder collapsed while she was trying to help him out of the concert and another fifteen minutes later when she learned from a paramedic that he had been stabbed.

“I’m not talking about her,” Ryan responded to Alexandra’s query about Angela. “I’m talking about this guy,” he explained while holding up an image on his cellphone.

Alexandra noted that the cellphone had an enlarged concert image. In the center of the picture was a security guard in a red shirt and blue cap marked SECURITY. Her initial response was confusion. She did not know what he might tell them that he did not tell the police already. A few seconds of thought brought her to the realization that he could not tell the police everything. It was then that an expression of understanding formed on her face.

“Now you’re getting it,” Ryan continued to smirk.

“Yeah,” Alexandra agreed with a wide smile.

“Who’s Sherlock now?” Ryan questioned her smugly.

“Ha, ha,” Alexandra returned with a sneer.

It took two hours of sleuthing and vampire compelling by Ryan and Alexandra to learn who and where the security person in the picture was. It took them another hour of travel and some vampire compelling to get a meeting with Larry Hudson at his full-time job as a package handler in a FedEx Warehouse. During the cognizant verbal exchange portion of their meeting, Larry Hudson repeated the story he told the police.

“I was too far away and there was too much noise for me to see or hear anything. The first I knew about the stabbing was when the police began questioning me an hour later.”

Ryan and Alexandra expected that report from Larry Hudson, but they also knew from the photo that he was ideally situated to see everything. Perched on a two-foot-high walkway along the perimeter of the audience, Hudson had an unobstructed view over the concert audience. His focus was on the audience not the concert. Ryan and Alexandra knew that Hudson saw far more than what his brain could assimilate into knowledge. They also knew that resurfacing and extracting those visual memories was easy enough work for a vampire.

After the cognizant verbal exchange with Hudson, Ryan and Alexandra devoted a little more than fifteen minutes plying Hudson with trance inducing vampire pheromones and compelling his mind to replay everything that it saw. While Hudson’s brain was revisiting the concert with a singular focus, Ryan was showing him images of the concert attendees that they received from Leslie Dunn. As Ryan went through images, one by one, the entranced Hudson used yes and no answers to signify if that person was ever standing behind or near Eric Calder. Twice during the first fifteen minutes Hudson answered yes, but each person was dismissed as a suspect when Hudson reported that Eric Calder displayed no ill effect from the encounters. It was third picture a couple of minutes later that produced a different report.

The person in the third image was a young man, and Calder did slump away immediately after this man left. Hudson identified the young stranger as someone who never stood directly behind Eric Calder, but close to another young man who was. Hudson reported that there was a total of four young men standing behind Eric Calder at that time and they all moved away together seconds before Eric Calder doubled over and began backing away from the concert. Ryan was convinced that he had found one of Eric Calder’s killers. The problem he pondered aloud was, “now we just need to find out who he is.”

“That’s easy,” Alexandra insisted with a condescending tone.

“Really?” Ryan questioned with an incredulous expression. “And just how would we do that?”

“Ha, ha, I see it and you don’t,” Alexandra cheerfully boasted.

“See what?” A vexed Ryan tossed out.

“So, who’s the Sherlock now?” Alexandra crowed.

“ _Flavia_?” Ryan impatiently called out. “How do we find him?”

“Look at his jacket, _Radu_ ,” Alexandra instructed, gesturing toward his cellphone.

Ryan brought his cellphone back up toward his face and began examining the jacket of the young man in the picture. After a brief study, he noted that the jacket had a high school emblem sewn on it. Seconds later his confused expression was swapped out with a knowing look.

“Okay, that’s one for you,” Ryan reluctantly conceded.

After a brief online search for the school with the matching emblem, Ryan and Alexandra set off for Brooklyn and Midwood High School. In little more than three quarters of an hour, they were walking through the door of the principal’s office under the guise that Ryan was a former student looking to donate to the school. A pheromone induced trance was used to compel the receptionist to accept that lie. When Ryan and Alexandra were inside the office, they targeted the principal with their vampire pheromones to sharpen his memory. Moments later, the principal was able to recall the year the young man graduated from Midwood. It only took a few minutes more for the principal to find the student’s name in the class yearbook and then pull his address from the school computer. Ryan and Alexandra were in and out of Midwood High School in a little more than ten minutes with everything they wanted.

At 3:18pm Alexandra rang the doorbell to Robert Guffey’s home. Ryan agreed to stay in the car after Alexandra convinced him that the interview would go smoother without him. After two more rings and a minute of waiting, Alexandra gave the screen door handle a tug and noted that it was locked. She was thinking about abandoning the effort when she heard movement in the house. After waiting several more seconds, a tall, slim and physically fit looking young man snatched open the door. Alexandra immediately recognized him as Robert Guffey.

“Yeah?” Robert Guffey challenged with insolence.

“Robert Guffey,” Alexandra greeted with mild astonishment. “It’s good to see you. I’ve been looking for you all day.”

“Who are you?” Robert asked with a frown.

Robert Guffey examined Alexandra from behind a screen door. He was dressed in a JFK Airport baggage handler uniform. His expression appeared to be a mix of confusion and annoyance.

“I’m a reporter with Metro New York,” Alexandra answered.

Robert was surprised by Alexandra’s declaration. His first thought was to wonder why a reporter was looking for him. His second thought was a fear of the answer to that question.

“Can I come in?” Alexandra asked in a pleasant voice.

Alexandra knew from experience that her pheromones would not work while they were standing on either side of the front door to the house. She could feel the warm air of the interior flowing out the open door. Getting herself inside the house or him outside of it was essential so that her pheromones could envelope him.

“What do you want with me?” Robert asked with a perplexed expression.

“I want to talk to you about Eric Calder,” Alexandra explained as though it was a routine response.

Robert took a barely noticeable gulp of air in surprise.

“I don’t know an Eric Calder,” he insisted swiftly.

“Yes, you do,” Alexandra playfully contradicted. “The concert—the stabbing,” she finished with enthusiasm.

Robert was unnerved by Alexandra’s remark. He gave her an agitated look.

“Why do you want to talk to me about that?” He asked with a hint of alarm.

“Because you were there,” Alexandra returned with a pleasant expression. “Can I come in?”

Alexandra did not want to force her way inside even though she could easily do just that. She understood that her goal was to get information without being a disruption in the situation.

“I don’t know anything about that,” Robert disputed vehemently.

“Sure, you do,” Alexandra countered with an affirmative nod. “You were standing nearby when Eric Calder was stabbed,” she asserted as though speaking a well-known fact.

“What if I was?” Robert grumbled quizzically. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

“There’s some things about the event that I thought you might be able to help me with,” Alexandra responded with a contemplative frown.

“I don’t know anything,” Robert blared.

He stepped back to close the door.

“Shutting that door would be mistake,” Alexandra quickly asserted.

Just as he was about to swing the door shut, Robert stopped to listen to Alexandra.

“I know you didn’t kill Eric Calder,” Alexandra stated in a casual voice. “But I also know that you were close enough to see something. If you don’t speak with me then I’ll just have to take my observation to the police,” Alexandra suggested placidly.

Robert Guffey did not know how to respond to Alexandra’s remark. He feared having his name in a story that she wrote, but he feared the attention of the police even more. He was conflicted between closing the door on Alexandra and letting her in. He pondered his choices for several seconds while examining the young woman at his door with suspicion.

“Hey, Robert, come on,” Alexandra urged with a smiling face. “I’m not going to attack you, and you can frisk me if you want. But I warn you, I’m ticklish.”

Robert was not amused by Alexandra’s jest. The seriousness of the situation had him worried about his choices. He had a secret that he was desperate to keep, and he considered Alexandra a threat to that secret. He also wanted to know what she knew.

“I have to go work,” Robert stated as he opened the screen. “So, you’ve got 10 minutes.”

“Great,” Alexandra cheered as she hurried through the open doorway. 

Nearly twenty minutes later, a gleeful Alexandra hurried out of the house with a sheet of paper in her hand. With a walk that said she was pleased with herself, Alexandra strolled over to the car that Ryan was seated in and climbed into the front passenger seat.

“Did you learn anything?” Ryan asked as he started the car.

“I learned everything,” Alexandra answered with a wave of the paper in her hand and a smug smile.


	13. House Visits

“Okay you two,” Cassidy called out from her location by the dining room table. “No fighting in there.”

It was half past six in the evening. Cassidy was ironing clothes in the dining room while her children, Cynthia and John, were playing with an electronic learning game when a squabble began. Cassidy was more than two hours into her normal Monday after work routine. The arguing and tussling between her children was a routine part of her day. Cassidy interpreted her kids arguing as a signal that they were getting tired, which was not unique to them for this time of day. Cassidy was looking forward to putting this day to bed so that she could rest up for tomorrow. Her plan was to put the kids to bed in another hour and a half and herself in another three. In the interim she planned to focus her attention on housework. A few minutes after she admonished her kids, her plan was interrupted by a text message to her cellphone from Alexandra.

_Come outside._

Cassidy hurried to the front window after reading Alexandra’s text message. It took her a couple of seconds to spot Alexandra and Ryan standing next to their car parked across the street and a few houses down to the left. Alexandra’s enthusiastic waving simplified Cassidy’s visual search. After spotting them, Cassidy raced up to her bedroom closet, retrieved her trench coat, collected her handgun and shoved it into the coat pocket before racing out of the room.

“Stay inside,” Cassidy instructed her kids as she hurried into the living room and toward the front door.

Cassidy hurried out of her house and stormed off toward Alexandra and Ryan with her hands in her coat pockets. 

“What are you doing here?” Cassidy asked in a commanding tone as she came to a stop several feet away from Alexandra

Ryan maintained a relaxed stance behind Alexandra with his arms crossed.

“We’re here to see you,” Alexandra responded with a thrilled tone.

“What part of don’t come to my home was unclear?” Cassidy hissed at Alexandra.

“I’m not in your home,” Alexandra defended with an astonished expression. “I’m not even on the porch. I’m on the street.”

Cassidy fumed at the little vampire in front of her. as she held her five-foot distance from her, Cassidy’s dominant hand continued to rest on the gun in her pocket.

“What do you want?” Cassidy grumbled after a long pause.

“Here,” Alexandra cheered as she thrust out the paper in her hand.

“What’s that?” Cassidy challenged.

“We solved the case,” Alexandra announced with a wide smile. “Here,” she insisted while flagging the paper in front of Cassidy.

“What case?” Cassidy asked while taking the paper.

Alexandra withheld her response to give Cassidy time to examine the paper.

“You see?” Alexandra excitedly queried after a long pause. “There were four of them, but it was that Gabe guy who actually did the stabbing,” she finished pointing to the paper in Cassidy’s hand.

Cassidy continued to read what was on the paper for several seconds more. She recognized two of the names listed on the paper as persons she identified as attendees to the Pier 17 concert when Eric Calder was killed.

“How—what—why? How do you know this?” Cassidy asked with some difficulty.

“We investigated,” Alexandra explained with a look toward Ryan for confirmation.

“It was easy,” Ryan casually supported.

“But how?” Cassidy challenged with an accentuation of disbelief.

“We asked,” Ryan returned with a shrug.

“But how did you find him?” Cassidy challenged completely astonished.

“We asked around,” Alexandra coyly answered with a wide smile.

Cassidy was flummoxed by what she was seeing and hearing. She paused to organize her thoughts.

“How do I know that he—that this is correct?” Cassidy spurted after a moment of thought. “I mean, I can’t just go around making accusations.”

“He told us,” Alexandra returned as if speaking the obvious.

“He told you?” Cassidy nearly yelled.

“Mortals tell us things they don’t tell other mortals,” Ryan explained with a confident smile and a nod. “They even tell us things that they don’t even know that they know.”

Cassidy was stunned beyond words. She did not know what she should do or say at that moment. She suspected that everything Alexandra and Ryan were saying was accurate, but she was reluctant to act based upon their word.

“Stop worrying, Detective Tremaine,” Ryan calmly assured. “They did it. Guffey told us with his own mouth, and mortals don’t lie to us.”

“Yeah,” Alexandra agreed with a shake of her head.

Cassidy paused to take in all the information they had given to her.

“I told you not to do this,” Cassidy angrily asserted.

“We just wanted to help,” Alexandra returned with her best innocent guise.

Alexandra’s look of playful naïveté angered Cassidy even more, and she gave her a furious stare.

“Stay away from my investigations,” Cassidy growled at Alexandra and Ryan just before turning away and marching off for her house.

“What do we do now?” Alexandra asked Ryan with a worried look.

“I don’t think she meant that,” Ryan proposed with feigned deliberation.

“So, we’re going to Harlem?” Alexandra queried with wide eyed glee.

Ryan gave Alexandra a sly smile before responding.

“The game’s afoot.”

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“Who’s there?” Aidan Dalby yelled at the front door of his house.

It was well past eleven o’clock Wednesday night when Aidan climbed out of bed to find out who was pounding on his front door. He was not aware that the pounding started as a knock long before he awakened, got out of bed, retrieved his revolver and went to the front door. His delayed responses were a consequence of his alcohol induced sleep.

Aidan Dalby was an alcoholic. His drinking was motivated more by mood than need. Aidan was a 49-year-old single man living in an unkempt and neglected house that was left to him by his deceased mother. Unemployed and living on food stamps, handouts from relatives and Medicaid, Aidan had no prospects for bettering his situation. His 22 years in prison for armed robbery provided him with a record that greatly reduced his opportunities for employment that were available to him. A further hindrance to his limited prospects was his confinement to a wheelchair. His lower body paralysis was brought about by a police officer’s bullet when he was arrested for armed robbery, assault and battery, and attempted murder.

“It’s your brother, Ben,” Ben Yelled in response to Aidan’s query. “Let me in.”

Aidan relaxed his posture and settled his pistol into his lap. He pushed his chair to the door, undid the locks and opened it. After pushing back from the door, Aidan examined the figure that stepped through the doorway. Aidan was mildly surprised by the look of his seldom seen brother. His youthful appearance immediately caught his attention, but he was not amazed by it. His build was not decidedly different from what it was when he last saw Ben, 18 months earlier. The resurgence of his hairline and the dissipation of age lines is what surprised him the most. He attributed Ben’s new fit look of vim and vigor to some financial change in his situation, and he promptly began despising him for it.

“You’re looking well,” Aidan mumbled. “Life must be going well for you.”

Aidan spun about and started for the bottle of whiskey and glasses on the coffee table in the living room.

“Are you here to share the wealth?” Aidan queried as he grabbed the whiskey bottle and poured himself a drink.

“Yes, I am,” Ben returned as he shut the door behind him.

“Well, you shouldn’t have bothered making the trip. “As you can see, I’m not setup for guests, and your usual care package would have worked just as well.”

“Not this time,” Ben countered as he situated himself in the center of the living room. “This I had to deliver in person.”

“Yeah,” Aidan challenged after gulping down some whiskey. “What makes this time different from all the others?” He continued.

Aidan spun his chair around so that he could look his brother in the eyes.

“There’s nothing you can do for me, Bennie, that’s going to set things right,” Aidan grumbled. “Look around. This is my life. This is all I have. This is all that’s left of my life thanks to you,” he finished emphasizing with outstretched arms.

Aidan’s accusation was a gripe that had been brewing between them for 28 years. Ben doubted that his brother truly blamed him for his situation, but he had no doubt that he resented him, nonetheless. Ben knew that Aidan traced his present state of being back to his decision involving him.

Twenty-eight years ago, a 19-year-old Ben begged his 21-year-old brother to let him be a part of a bank robbery that Aidan and his friends made plans to do. On the day of planned robbery, Aidan was short a man and relented to Ben’s request. It was that decision that shaped the next 28 years of Aidan’s life. Aidan knew that if Ben had not been there, he would not have made the extra effort to make sure the fourth man was safe. He knew that protective act put him in the line of fire of the officer who shot and paralyzed him. The fact that Ben left him behind was salt in the wound. On top of these facts, Aidan’s refusal to identify Ben as an accomplice in the robbery to reduce his prison sentence was just another injury that festered every day since.

“I come with a gift that will outweigh all your past ills,” Ben softly declared.

“What gift could you have that will compensate me for 28 years in a wheelchair and 22 years in a prison cell?” Aidan mumbled before taking another gulp of whiskey. “There’s nothing you can give me that will undo that,” he continued after swallowing the liquor.

“Don’t be so sure, brother,” Ben replied with a slight smile.

Ben’s smile perplexed Aidan. He could not imagine why his brother thought anything he gave him would set his losses right.

“You’ve gone daft,” Aidan returned. “You have no idea what my life is like—what it’s been like for the past 28 years.”

“Maybe not,” Ben responded with a shrug. “But I know what it could be like starting tomorrow.”

Aidan paused, sat back in his chair and examined his little brother with a new understanding of what he thought was happening.

“So, that’s why you’re here,” Aidan spoke with a sigh. “You’re trying to ease your conscious.”

“Don’t go there, Aidan,” Ben softly argued. “What happened to you was not my fault.”

“It was your fault,” Aidan shot back. “You never should have been there.”

“You needed me,” Ben insisted with his temper rising.

“You were too slow,” Aidan sharply countered. “I had to wait for you.”

“I never asked you to wait,” Ben nearly growled back.

“You didn’t have to ask,” Aidan shouted with a point. “You ‘re my brother, and I waited for you. But you didn’t wait for me,” he yelled with resentment.

Ben took a deep breath and softened his demeanor to consider the direction their discussion was going before speaking again.

“You know I couldn’t come back for you,” Ben countered in a soothing voice.

“Right, so you ran,” Aidan begrudgingly acknowledged.

“I thought you were dead,” Ben exhaled regretfully.

“And you didn’t stop to find out,” Aidan murmured spitefully. “I lied for you,” he continued. “When they asked me to testify that you were there, I said no. I wouldn’t betray my brother.”

“And you know I would’ve done the same for you,” Ben retaliated with temper. “Don’t play the pity me game, Aidan. It doesn’t suit you.”

Aidan was instantly overtaken with rage. He gripped his glass like it was baseball and threw it hard against wall to his left. The glass shattered. Aidan snatched the pistol out of his lap and brought it down alongside his wheelchair. Despite his anger, he was reluctant to point the weapon at his brother. The best he could do was direct a furious scowl at Ben while directing the gun down at the floor with his finger on the trigger.

“Are you going to shoot me, brother,” Ben passively asked while holding his stance in front of Aidan.

Breathing deeply, Aidan glared at his brother while his hand fidgeted with the pistol.

“Why are you here, Ben?” Aidan grumbled.

A smile spread across Ben’s face as he extended his arms out to either side.

“Look at me,” Ben instructed with a smile. “What do you see?”

Aidan examined his brother.

“I see a peacock,” Aidan returned with a snarl. “What? Have you turned faggot?”

“No, I haven’t turned faggot,” Ben responded with a slight chuckle. “I’m young again.”

Aidan shook his head and smirked at Ben. He was now seeing his little brother as amusing and stupid.

“Hair plugs and a facelift don’t make you young,” Aidan lectured.

Ben knew that Aidan was referring to his new expanded hairline and the decreased presence of wrinkles in his face. He took a moment to give that insinuation a smile response.

“They’re not hair plugs, Aidan,” Ben pleasantly corrected. “I’m younger, stronger, better than I was just a few days ago. I’m a whole new me, and I’m here to do the same for you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Aidan challenged with a frown.

“I’m here to give you a whole new life, brother,” Ben answered still smiling.

“Is that right?” Aidan grumbled barely containing his rage. “Can you give me back my legs?”

“Yes,” Ben answered. “I think I can.”

“What the fuck have you been snorting or…” Aidan began and then stopped with alarm just as Ben took a step toward him.

It was not the step forward did not alarmed Aidan, it was the reflection of light that suddenly began appearing in Ben’s eyes did. Aidan stopped in mid-sentence to gape at this visage.

“Are you going to shoot me, brother?” Ben asked as he look toward the gun.

Ben’s question only partially registered with Aidan. His attention was fixed on what appeared to be fangs in Ben’s mouth when he spoke.

“What’s going on with you, Ben?” Aidan asked a little unnerved.

Ben took another step forward. He was now close enough to look down at Aidan. He stood there for a moment and stared into his older brother’s eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Aidan asked with growing distress.

Aidan was now mildly panicked. He knew that the light reflecting off Ben’s eyes was no fluke. He suspected something had changed inside Ben just within the past few minutes, and the change was affecting the composition of his eyes and teeth. In a lurch, Aidan brought the pistol back to his lap.

“You’re not going to shoot me, Aidan,” Ben spoke with a mischievous smile.

Ben stopped to consider his brother’s disposition. Despite the strain that his paralysis and incarceration had put on their relationship, he had little doubt of his brother’s love for him. Ben took another step closer.

“No,” Ben continued with a slight shake of his head. “Not after taking a bullet for me—not after sacrificing 22 years of your life to protect me, you’re not going shoot me now.”

Ben took another step forward, and then another. 

“What I’m offering you, brother, is immortality,” Ben continued while leaning forward and extending his hand towards the gun.

Terror began to well up in Aidan when noticed Ben’s newly elongated fingernails. He thought to bring his gun up to an aim, but Ben was the little brother he had spent 22 years in jail protecting. He was also restrained by the belief that Ben would not hurt him.

“What happened to you?” Aidan whispered while staring directly into Ben’s eyes.

As Aidan spoke, Ben’s hand came to rest on the handgun in his brother’s lap. With next to no resistance, he pulled the gun out of Aidan’s hand and set it down on the floor. After standing again, Ben leaned forward with his hands against the arm rests of Ben’s wheelchair. Their faces were just inches apart. For a couple of seconds Ben did nothing but stare into his brother’s eyes. Over that same time, Aidan returned his stare with a mixture of confusion and dread.

“I’ve become a God,” Ben whispered.

An instant later, Ben’s teeth were deep into Aidan’s neck.


	14. Le Bouquet

“Good night, Lola,” Glen hailed as Lola Keener approached.

Glen Sullivan opened the front entrance of the Walgreens Drugstore just before Lola came within a couple of steps from him.

“Goodnight,” Lola returned before walking through the open doorway.

Glen Sullivan was the night manager of the Walgreens Drugstore where Lola Keener worked as a clerk. It was 10:27 Wednesday night. Glen was closing the store and Lola was the last clerk to leave. He locked the door behind her and went to the back office to complete some paperwork before leaving himself. The end of day clerical work usually took Glen no more than fifteen minutes to complete. That was just about the length of time it took Lola Keener to walk home.

Lola Keener’s home was a single story two-bedroom house that was five blocks from where she worked. She regularly worked the evening shift, but not by choice. Her period of employment at the store was less than three years. Most of the other clerks had more seniority. During the previous eight years, Lola was a housewife married to Darren Kimmel, a Boston based used car dealership owner 25 years her senior. The marriage ended in divorce. The absence of children and Lola’s infidelity streamlined the dissolution proceedings, so she moved from Boston to Dorchester, Massachusetts.

Lola Keener was now 54 years old, single and unattached. She had been living alone ever since her divorce from Darren Kimmel, more by choice than circumstance. Despite her age, Lola was still an attractive woman with striking features. She continued to get looks from men, but their intentions no longer involved anything more than onetime sexual encounters. Her marriage to Darren diminished her tolerance for unattractive men who were grateful for her attention. She now lived with a faint hope of finding an agreeable man who was financially self-sufficient and had long term intentions.

In her twenties, Lola was what some would call a party girl. She was born and raised in New Jersey State. She relocated to New York City at the age of 19 and spent more than two decades there living a life filled with parties, drugs and sex. She soon learned that attaching herself to the right man was the easy way of financing her lifestyle. It was not until she discovered that she could no longer command the adoration of the right man that she consented to marry Darren Kimmel and move to Boston.

Lola’s house was small and partially shrouded by trees. There was a lamp post in the yard that illuminated the front of the house at night. When she arrived at the doorstep of her home, all seemed as it should be. Lola unlocked the front door, entered the house and turned on the overhead light just as she had done a hundred times before. Everything was familiar and routine; she had no reason to feel ill at ease. She promptly went into the kitchen, turned on the light and placed a carton of orange juice in the refrigerator. She left the kitchen, walked down a short hall and turned into her bedroom. Just as she stepped through the doorway Lola reached for the light switch as she had done a thousand time before. In that same instant a pair of hands came out from the shadow behind the door and grasped Lola about her face and waist. With one quick yank, she was snatched off the floor and pulled flush against the body that the hands and the arms were attached to.

Lola’s effort to turn on the light failed. The suddenness of the assault was too quick and terrifying. During the instant that she was grabbed and restrained, Lola did not have time to think. She only had time to react, but the speed and strength of her attacker was far beyond her ability to resist. She knew it was a man restraining her. She could not scream because of the hand he had clamped over her mouth. A moment after the initial assault began, Lola thought with horror that she was about to die.

“Relax, Lola,” the voice behind her whispered into her ear. “Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Lola was quickly calmed by the declaration of her attacker that she would not be harmed. His words gave her reason to believe that she would not be harmed right away. Her instinct was to relax, negotiate and play for time, and she commenced with that strategy by going still.

“That’s it, babe,” the voice from behind spoke soothingly. “You’re okay. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m going to take my hand away from your mouth and you’re not going to scream. Okay?”

Lola nodded her agreement not to scream, and the hand dropped away from her mouth a couple of seconds later.

“What do want?” Lola asked in a panicked voice.

“It’s me, babe,” the voice behind her whispered into her ear. “Tony.”

“Tony?” Lola queried with a startled inflection.

“Yeah, babe,” Tony softly confirmed. “It’s me.”

Lola instantly matched the voice with the name. In that moment, her fear turned to anger. She immediately began to struggle in his grasp.

“Let go of me,” Lola demanded as she continued to struggle. 

“Okay, okay,” Tony assented as he released her.

As soon as Tony released his grip, Lola jumped away and turned to look at him. The darkness of the room and the shadow he was standing in made his features difficult to see, but this hindrance did not conceal from Lola the difference in the physique from the Tony she remembered. She gave him a quick down and up look, which reinforced her doubt that the man in front of her was Tony. An instant later, she started for the light switch.

“Don’t,” Tony called out as Lola moved toward the light switch.

Lola stopped just before her hand was about to touch the switch.

“I need to warn…”

Tony’s statement was cut short when Lola flipped on the light. She quickly studied the man in front of her and recognized him as a youthful version of Tony McGuire. She considered the possibility that he was a son that she had not heard of. She was stunned by what she was seeing.

“Yeah, babe, it’s me,” Tony stated with his arms spread out to his sides.

“No,” Lola disputed. “You’re not Tony.”

Lola’s recognition of Tony McGuire was more than twenty years old, but her memory was of a man in his mid-thirties and husky. This man in front of her could not be older than his mid-twenties. She stepped back to consider the person she was looking at, shaking her head in disbelief.

“No, there’s no way you’re Tony McGuire,” Lola insisted.

“Yes, it’s me,” Tony softly insisted as he took a step forward. “It’s a brand new me—younger—stronger—faster,” he finished with a giddy expression. “Remember the Millennium Hotel in July?”

Tony paused to give Lola time to recall the memory.

“How about the Tropicana in Atlantic City—Mary—Chad?” Tony questioned with another step forward.

Lola was amazed by the questions this man was asking her. She recalled her time with Tony at the locations he was speaking of, but she was confused by the fact that he was aware of these events. 

“It can’t be you,” Lola disputed with a confused shake of her head.

“It’s me, babe,” Tony whispered with a smile, while reaching into his jacket pocket. “I brought you a gift,” he added while producing a small bottle of Le Bouquet Perfume and extending it toward her. 

Lola was stunned by the sight of the small bottle of perfume. For several seconds she could do nothing but stare at the young man in front of her.

“How can this be possible?” Lola whispered with an intonation of amazement. “Tony McGuire is sixty—one, sixty-two years old,” she fumbled out. “You look like you’re in your mid-twenties.”

“I’m sixty-two years old,” Tony stated calmly. “I’ll be sixty-three this October third.”

Lola knew that he was correct about Tony McGuire’s age and birthday. The fact that he knew Tony’s birthday had her confused even more. She could do nothing but stare at the man standing in front of her with a bottle of expensive perfume resting in his extended hand. After several seconds, Tony gently stepped past her and placed the bottle on her vanity. Lola observed his movements as he went by. She turned with his movement to keep him in the center of her vision. He straightened and turned to face her square on, Lola took a breath and did not move. Tony was just out of arms reach.

“Lolita,” Tony nearly whispered. “It’s me.” 

Lola nearly gasped when she heard the young man in front of her use the pet name that Tony had given her.

“I’ve been reborn,” Tony continued.

“How?” Lola asked in shock.

“I met a man who had the power to remake me—to turn back the clock—to transform me,” Tony explained in a soft voice. “He made me better—stronger.”

“But—but how?” Lola asked with dismay.

“He fed me his blood,” Tony answered while holding perfectly still.

“His blood?” Lola blurted. “What do you mean that he fed you his blood?”

Tony hesitated to reply, showing his amusement with a gentle smile.

“He made me immortal,” Tony returned with a hint of glee.

“Immortal?” Lola questioned with a disbelieving shake of her head. “What are you talking about?” She added now completely dumbfounded.

“I’m telling you that I’m a changed man,” Tony explained with a fixed stare. “I don’t even think I can call myself human anymore—I’m superhuman.”

“You’re crazy,” Lola insisted, taking a half step back. “Nothing that you’re saying is possible. I want you out of my house.”

“It’s true,” Tony countered in a calm voice. “It’s all true, and I can prove it,” he appended with soft finality.

Lola paused to consider Tony’s offer to prove what he was saying. Finally, she took a deep and asked. “How?” Obviously lamenting the question.

Tony made no effort to respond to Lola’s question. He held his position and did nothing. Frustrated with his silence, she was about to give voice to her discomfort when something unnerving caught her attention. Light began to reflect off Tony’s eyes. Suddenly, Lola was fixated on the sight of Tony’s photoreceptive retinas.

“What’s happening to you?” She asked after staring for several seconds.

Tony partially opened his mouth and bared his newly formed fangs in response to Lola’s inquiry. While keeping his teeth bared for Lola’s perusal, a soft hiss escaped his lips. Lola was officially terrified. She took a full step back with an expression of wide-eyed fear.

“What are you?” Lola asked between deep breathes.

“I’m Tony,” he answered with his arms spread slightly out from his sides.

“And why are you here?” Lola queried over her labored breathing. 

Tony took two steps forward. Lola stood still a foot away from the wall behind her. Tony was now half arm’s length away from her. For several seconds admired Lola’s face. He smiled while examining her features. Shortly he raised his right hand to caress her cheek. Lola made a nervous jump when he reached out toward her but remained in place. When his hand dropped away from her face, she noticed his long fingernails.

“I’m here for you,” Tony whispered.

Lola was confused. She did not understand what he meant; she was trying to formulate a question when Tony reached out with both hands and took her by the shoulders. In one continuous movement, he pulled her up against his chest and wrapped his arms around her back. He squeezed her tight against him, grabbed a handful of her hair with his left hand, pulled her head back and to side, and sank his fangs into her jugular. Lola barely had time to let out a partial scream before the pain of the bite overpowered all her impulses. Lola’s attempt to resist the assault was barely noticeable against Tony’s power. Moments later, Lola no longer had the strength to resist. Three minutes into the assault, her consciousness slipped away, and she slumped into his arms; and another minute more brought her heart to a complete stop. When Tony pulled his head away from Lola’s neck, he growled in satisfaction with his feast, then he lifted Lola’s limp body into his arms, carried her to the bed and gently laid her atop it. Seconds later, he was dripping his own blood into her mouth.

When Tony was convinced that Lola was on her way to becoming a vampire, he turned his attention to transporting her to New York City. He was not expecting any danger. It was well past eleven at night, and he had no reason to believe anyone would be expecting to hear from Lola at this hour. He was confident that he had free reign over the house until the next morning at the earliest, but he was in a hurry to move, not wanting to waste the darkness. His exit plan started with rolling Lola in the bedspread so that she was not visible, then he left the house.

The little house that Lola lived in did not have a garage or driveway. The numerous cars parked on the street forced Tony to leave his car parked half a block down from her house. He wanted to move Lola into his car under the cover of darkness, but he did not want to wait two hours to be sure the neighbors were asleep. Tony was determined to get back to his stash house as quickly as possible. To achieve maximum speed, his plan was to travel as far as he could between this moment and sunrise. To avoid drawing attention to himself, Tony brought his car to the front of the house and left it idling in the street with the hood of the trunk open. He then hurried back into the house, gathered Lola up onto his shoulder and carried her to his car as quickly and inconspicuously as he could. Within thirty seconds, he deposited her in the trunk, got into the driver’s seat of the car and drove off. Tony had been driving for several minutes when his cellphone began vibrating. He pulled his cellphone out of his inside suit coat pocket and noted who was calling before answering.

“What’s happening?” Tony queried into his cellphone.

“It's out,” Mickey Never’s anxiously exclaimed. “News of your purchase is on the streets.”

“Everybody?” A stunned Tony asked.

“Everybody who's watching what's moving on the street,” Mickey insisted with a hint of hysterics.

“What the fuck!” Tony grumbled in dismay. “Did Castellano take out an ad?” He sarcastically added.

“He didn't have to,” Mickey countered. “He told somebody, and they told somebody and then it spread like wildfire. I told you this buy wasn't going to be a secret for long,” he finished vehemently.

Tony was annoyed by the agitation in Mickey’s voice.

“Do the cops know?” Tony growled.

“I haven't heard anything,” Mickey answered with the panic. “But they will, and you can expect to meet a few of them with their hands out.”

“I can deal with that,” Tony quickly insisted. “It's the cops who don't have their hands out that I'm concerned about.”

“They're not a problem yet,” Mickey assured. “But Grasso is,” he warned.

“Grasso?” Tony questioned with surprise.

“He told me to give you a message,” Mickey cautiously advised, “no new powder in Manhattan.”

Tony took a moment to consider Grasso’s warning before responding pensively.

“Grasso said that?”

“Tommie Grasso is not someone to fuck with,” Mickey warned. “And it's not just Manhattan. Pick any borough, there's going to be somebody in them who's not going to like you moving into their territory. The best that you can hope for is that they’re just going to want a piece of your action.”

Tony momentarily considered Mickey’s warning about Grasso. It did not take him long to decide how to proceed.

“You know Grasso?” Tony asked.

“I've seen him a couple of times, but I never met him,” Mickey returned with barely a thought. “A couple of his associates gave me that message to pass on to you.”

“Well, I need you to get back to him,” Tony promptly returned. “Set up a meet,” he added. 

“Grasso is not going to be satisfied with a piece of the action that’s going on in his own backyard,” Mickey quickly lectured.

“Tell him my stuff is for sell,” Tony responded as though he was still pondering the thought. “Tell him I’m willing to sell for twenty percent off the purchase price. That should get his attention.”

“You’ll lose money on a deal like that,” Mickey returned with shock. “Tommie is no dummy.”

“Tell him that I came into a large sum of money—marked money,” Tony puzzled out. “And my deal with Castellano was just my way of moving the cash out of the country.”

“Is that true?” Mickey asked with surprise.

“You just tell him what I said,” Tony replied with a modest amount of insistence.

“Tony, he’s going to want to know about the money,” Mickey argued in a worried voice.

“Tell him it was a kidnapping—the family played ball—it was kept out of the news, and the feds were involved,” Tony summed up on the fly.

Mickey paused to consider what Tony had just said.

“And the feds used sequential bills, and the cartel doesn’t care about things like that because they smuggle the money out of the country,” Mickey mused as he began to understand the situation.

“Precisely,” Tony confirmed.

Mickey was suspicious of Tony’s story and worried about his degree of exposure and risk if it was a lie.

“Mr. McGuire,” Mickey earnestly spoke. “You don’t want to double cross Tommie Grasso.”

“Do it,” Tony sharply countered. “Set the meet for Saturday night—someplace secluded,” he finished.

Mickey sighed reluctantly.

“Okay.” 

Tony disconnected the call and then turned all his attention back driving the car.


	15. The Confessional

“Mr. Gabriel Hirsch?” Cassidy queried into her desk telephone.

It was 10:22am Thursday, when Cassidy made the call to Mr. Hirsch. His number was part of the information that Ryan and Alexandra gave her the night before. Earlier that morning, Cassidy tried to convince Dt. Hale to bring Robert Guffey into the precinct for questioning, but Dt. Hale and Dt. Vera Washington did not like the idea.

“Investigation by lottery is not how we do things,” Vera belittled. “We don’t have the time to bring in everyone who was at that concert and shake them to see what falls out.”

“Robert Guffey has no known connection to Eric Calder,” Dt. Hale continued without the condescending tone. “You need to find someone with motive and opportunity,” he lectured. “That’s how we build cases. Bringing in random suspects from the hundreds we have would be a waste of valuable time,” he finished with finality.

“You have to narrow the list down to a few plausible suspects,” Vera continued to speak in a patronizing manner. “We can’t just go eenie-meenie-miny-mo and drag someone in on the hope that he or she is the killer.”

Cassidy took immediate offense to Vera’s tone, but she could not think of a counter argument. According to Ryan and Alexandra’s information, Gabriel Hirsch was the actual killer. Without a picture of him at the concert she had only one way to explain how she knew Gabriel Hirsch was at the concert—the truth. Telling her fellow detectives that a pair of vampires used their trance inducing powers to track down the Pier 17 Concert killer was not an option for Cassidy. The idea she came up with for that problem was to bring Robert Guffey in for questioning and have him implicate Gabriel Hirsch in the killing. When Dt. Hale passed on her plan, Cassidy concluded that she would have to do this on her own.

The investigation into the James Dryden murder was not going well. After several days of investigating, Dt. Hale and his team had yet to find evidence to support their supposition that Kathryn Wells Dryden hired someone to murder her husband. Out of desperation for a lead to help their investigation, Dt. Hale was granted a warrant to search Kathryn Dryden’s home on the basis that James Dryden was the victim of a hired assassin and that she had the most to gain from his death. Searching Kathryn Dryden’s house was something that Dt. Hale had been reluctant to do. He did not want to put Kathryn Dryden on the defensive. After a week of investigating and finding nothing to support their theory that Kathryn ordered the murder of her husband, he concluded that he had nothing to lose in ordering the search.

At half past eight that morning, Detectives Hale, Washington, Greene and Russo set off for the home of Kathryn Dryden along with a dozen uniform officers. Cassidy was instructed to stay behind and continue searching for the identities of the Pier 17 concert goers and background information on each of them. Cassidy decided that this was the time to work her plan. She hoped to gather evidence against Gabriel Hirsch before Dt. Hale’s return to the squad room. She told herself that she would try to get one or more of the four young men into an interrogation room and then trick them into giving evidence that she could present to Dt. Hale.

Robert Guffey was the first-person Cassidy called, and he was easy enough to convince to come into the precinct. Cassidy repeatedly used the words suspect and warrant when referring to him and any reluctance by him to cooperate with the investigation. She told him it would be a quick in and out to look at some pictures, and she assured him that he was not a prime suspect. When Robert Guffey arrived an hour later, Cassidy placed him in an interrogation room with a stack of Pier 17 Concert pictures. Before leaving the room, she instructed Robert to look through the pictures to see if he could recall anything strange about anyone in them. She deliberately left a uniformed officer in the room to discourage Robert from taking any incoming calls from Gabriel Hirsch. Cassidy started her phone call to Gabriel Hirsch seconds after leaving Robert Guffey in the interrogation room.

“Yeah, this is Gabriel Hirsch,” the voice on the other end responded. “Who is this?”

“Mr. Hirsch, I’m Dt. Tremaine—Manhattan South Homicide—13th Precinct. Sir, I need you to come into the station to answer a few questions.”

For Gabriel Hirsch, the fact that a Manhattan South Detective was calling him was not wholly unexpected, but it was shocking. In the call he received from Robert Guffey an hour earlier, he was told that Dt. Tremaine only wanted Robert to come into the 13th Precinct to look at some pictures. Robert assured Gabriel that he told them he went to the concert by himself. Gabriel was hoping that his presence at the concert would remain unknown to the police. Dt. Tremaine’s call shattered that hope.

“Questions about what?” Gabriel asked hesitantly.

“Mr. Hirsch, you’re one of several dozen suspects in the stabbing murder at the Pier 17 concert a few weeks back,” Cassidy asserted in a flat voice. “We need you to come in to answer a few questions and to look at some pictures,” Cassidy added with a hint of insistence.

“Hey, I don’t know anything about that killing,” Gabriel countered slightly nervous.

“Robert Guffey told us that you, Harold Casey and Jeffrey Yates were at the concert with him,” Cassidy reported, feigning surprise. “Was he lying?” Cassidy asked in a mildly confused tone.

The report that Robert had divulged his presence at the concert shocked Gabriel. In the phone call he got from Robert, he said that he told the police he attended the concert alone. The thought that Robert had lied filled him with dread. His dread elevated to fear when he considered what more he may have divulged about what happened at the Pier 17 Concert.

“We also know that you and the victim attended the same high school, so that makes you a person of particular interest to us,” Cassidy continued after a moment of silence.

“Hey, I didn’t know the guy,” Gabriel nearly argued back. “He graduated three years before me.” 

“Mr. Hirsch, we’ve found more than a dozen individuals peripherally connected to Eric Calder who were at the concert. You’re pretty far away from being a prime suspect, but you are a suspect. Everyone at that concert who were not on the stage is a suspect. And anyone known to be in the general vicinity of the victim at the time of the murder must be interviewed. We’re bringing in a dozen people a day,” Cassidy explained. “If you want, I can send a car around to pick you up,” she concluded aloofly.

“I told you, I don’t know anything about Eric Calder, and I didn’t see anything,” Gabriel insisted.

“You may have seen more than you know,” Cassidy instructed. “We have dozens of pictures, and we need you to look at them.”

Gabriel began to become aware that his efforts to dissuade Cassidy from interviewing him was not going to work. He also suspected that his desperation was beginning to show. He quickly changed his tact and calmed his delivery.

“You know, I really don’t have time,” Gabriel returned nonchalantly. “And I didn’t see Eric Calder or anything to do with that.”

“Mr. Hirsch, you’re one of more than 200 suspects in a murder investigation,” Cassidy countered with a stern voice. “If you don’t come in voluntarily, then we will send a car out to bring you in for an interview, but that’s just more work for us for an hour of your time. Robert Guffey is coming in for his interview now, and I will be calling Harold Casey and Jeffery Yates when I’m done with this call. It doesn’t have to be today, but I do need to set up a time for an interview—today or tomorrow if possible.”

Gabriel hesitated to respond. The thought that Robert was on his way to the precinct at that moment unnerved him. He wondered what Robert might say without him there to hold his hand. His mind raced to find the correct course of action.

“I’ll come in today,” Gabriel assured. “I can be there in a half an hour to an hour. Is that okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine,” Cassidy agreed with indifference. “When you arrive give the desk sergeant your name and tell him you have a meeting with Dt. Tremaine.”

Gabriel quickly agreed to Cassidy’s instructions then disconnected the call. Seconds later, he was dialing Robert. After a dozen rings and no answer, Gabriel thought to send Robert a text, but he backed away from that idea after considering the danger of putting anything in writing. His new fear was that Robert was deliberately avoiding his call. He did not know that Robert was sitting in a small room with a police officer watching and listening to everything he did and said.

After Gabriel gave up trying to reach Robert by telephone; thoughts and fears bounced around in his head as he tried to decide how to proceed. The thought of going into the police station to be questioned about a murder that he committed terrified him. He was also afraid of running away. He knew that running would identify him as the person who killed Eric Calder. He was terrified of the possibility that Robert would tell Dt. Tremaine that he stabbed Eric Calder, but his brain kept doubting that he would do that. Shortly after the killing, he explained to Robert, Harold and Jeffery why they would be charged as accomplices if he was ever exposed as the killer. He remembered them promising to never tell anyone about what he did at that concert. At the end of his short internal debate, Gabriel decided to trust that his fears were all for nothing. In just over ten minutes after taking Cassidy’s call, Gabriel Hirsch was in his car and driving toward the 13th precinct.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“I’m sorry, detective, but I don’t remember seeing most of these people. And the ones I do remember didn’t seem to be doing anything unusual,” Robert reported to Cassidy.

“That’s alright. Let’s talk about something you should remember,” Cassidy broached with a faint hint of a smile.

“I told you, when the police started pouring in and questioning people, that was the first time I heard and saw anything about this killing. I left with the crowd. That’s all I know,” Robert insisted with a shrug.

“Well, tell me this, are you sure you went to the concert alone?” Cassidy gently challenged.

“Yeah, I told you. I just wandered in. It was a free outdoor concert,” Robert insisted.

“So, you and three of your friends from your job didn’t go there together?” Cassidy queried with a stern stare.

“I told you. I went there alone,” Robert nervously answered.

“That’s different than the story that Mr. Yates told us,” Cassidy countered with a dismayed looked.

“What did he say?” Robert asked in a panic.

“I’m interested in what you have to say,” Cassidy sternly advised. “Did Gabriel Hirsch kill Eric Calder?” She questioned in a flat monotone delivery.

“I told you. I went there by myself,” Robert insisted in a panicked voice.

“Are you sure you want to stick to that story?” Cassidy challenged with a calculating frown.

“It’s not a story,” Robert insisted with discernible desperation. “That’s what happened.”

“So, Gabriel Hirsch didn’t take a knife that he kept in his boot and stab Eric Calder in the back?” Cassidy questioned with a sly shake of her head.

“No—I mean, I told you, I was there by myself,” Robert continued to insist with growing agitation.

“Well, this is my problem, Mr. Guffey,” Cassidy began in a soft voice. “I need to build a case against Gabriel Hirsch, and to do that I need witnesses. One witness is good—two is better. To accomplish that, I’m prepared to recommend reduced charges for an accomplice who testifies against Gabriel Hirsch. So far, Mr. Yates is the only taker on that offer. If I can get another accomplice to verify the same set of facts, that’s a strong case. Now, I haven’t spoken to Mr. Casey yet, but if he takes the deal, I doubt the D.A. will feel the need to offer a deal for a third accomplice.”

Robert was severely unnerved by what Cassidy said. His panic was evident. He devoted several seconds to panting in fear and pondering what he should say or do.

“Gabe doesn’t even know that guy. Why would he kill him?” Robert queried with a heavy undertone of fear in his voice.

“Well, Mr. Yates is telling us a different story about a girl in high school that Mr. Hirsch had a crush on in his freshman year and how Mr. Calder swooped in and snatched her up,” Cassidy casually explained. “Of course, he gave us details, like her name and the things that went on between them—the pregnancy.” 

A noticeable expression of shock appeared on Robert’s face. Cassidy feigned indifference to his shocked expression. 

“I can give details, but I need to hear those details from you,” Cassidy added with a fixed stare.

“I want a lawyer—I mean public defender; I want a public defender,” Robert huffed in terror.

“That’s a good idea,” Cassidy agreed with fake sincerity and while getting up from her chair. “And I will certainly get one in here for you,” she continued with an affirmative nod of her head. “Although, I don’t think he or she will get here before Mr. Casey,” Cassidy bluffed with a brief look at her watch. “But good luck with that,” she finished just before turning toward the door.

“Wait! What’s the deal—what’s the offer?” Robert pleaded at Cassidy’s back.

Cassidy stopped and turned to look at Robert with a mildly astonished expression.

“Let me get my lieutenant in here to spell it out for you,” Cassidy announced with a confident nod.

Cassidy promptly left without showing any indication that she was happy with Robert’s decision. As soon as she was out of the interrogation room, she hurried to Lieutenant Laughton’s office and explained the situation. Lieutenant Laughton quickly called the D.A.’s office and got the sentencing deal they were prepared to give Robert Guffey in exchange for his written confession. The deal was faxed to them. In less than twelve minutes after Cassidy left Robert Guffey, she and Lieutenant Laughton were walking through the doorway of his interrogation room shortly after its arrival. A video camera was setup in the room and turned on. Robert Guffey was then advised of the charges that would be filed against him and the sentences he would face with and without his confession. He was then given the paperwork on the plea deal and instructed to sign it. For nearly a minute, Robert Guffey agonized over the decision to sign the agreement or not, but in the end he did.

“This plea deal goes into effect after you provide us with a complete and accurate confession and you testify to the accuracy of your confession. If you lie or omit significant details, the agreement is void,” Lt. Laughton sternly advised. “Do you understand?” 

Robert Guffey acknowledged his understanding and then reluctantly answered all of Cassidy’s questions in front of the camera. When Cassidy finished with her questioning, Robert wrote out and signed his confession. He was nearly at the end of his written confession when Cassidy got a call on her cellphone and went out of the room to take it. The call was from the precinct’s front desk. The officer reported to her that Gabriel Hirsch was in the lobby.

Cassidy did not want to meet Gabriel Hirsch without Robert Guffey’s confession in her hand and she instructed the front desk to have him wait. Cassidy then went back into the interrogation room and waited for Robert Guffey to finish writing out his confession. It was ten minutes later when Cassidy came face to face with Gabriel Hirsch for the first time.

“Mr, Hirsch?” Cassidy greeted with a smile.

“Yeah,” Gabriel concurred as he rose from his seat.

Cassidy briefly stopped in front of him while holding her smile.

“Good, let’s get you started so that we can get you out of here as soon as possible,” Cassidy quickly spoke as she led him past the front desk.

As Cassidy continued toward her squad room, she apologized for the hurried pace and explained how they were interviewing as many as fifteen people a day, and we’re finding new faces almost daily.

“Speaking of new faces, did you do any photographing or recordings of the concert?” Cassidy stopped to query with a keen stare.

“No,” Gabriel answered with a shake of his head.

Cassidy accepted Gabriel’s answer with a quick nod, and then she continued walking. Everything Cassidy was saying and doing was her way of trying to put Gabriel at ease. When she entered her squad room, she led Gabriel toward to her desk. As they moved toward the desk, two large, uniformed officers came up behind Gabriel. When he and Cassidy stopped, the two officers stopped. Cassidy turned to confront Gabriel while he nervously looked at the two officers.

“Gabriel Hirsch, you’re under arrest for the murder of Eric Calder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. Do you understand your rights?” Cassidy finished with a stern stare.

Gabriel was shocked by the sudden change in his situation. While he was in the midst of taking in what was happening, the two uniformed police officers handcuffed him.

“Do you understand your rights?” Cassidy asked again.

Gabriel was still in a state of shock. For a brief time, he looked at Cassidy with an astonished expression.

“I didn’t kill Eric Calder,” Gabriel pleaded with a hint of hysteria in his tone.

Gabriel continued to plead his innocence while the officers led him away to an interrogation room. He quickly demanded a public defender and was provided with one in less than an hour later. Just under an hour after the public defender arrived, Gabriel Hirsch confessed to the murder of Eric Calder. His public defender had advised him against going to trial because of the D.A.’s possession of Robert Guffey’s confession. The public defender also warned him that Harold Casey and Jeffery Yates would likely testify against him in trade for lighter sentences. To avoid the longer jail term that the D.A. was threatening to pursue in a trial, Gabriel Hirsch wrote out and signed a full confession.

When Dt. Hale returned from his fruitless search of Kathryn Dryden’s home, he found Cassidy in Lt. Laughton’s office with an Assistant District Attorney. He quickly joined their discussion and learned that Cassidy had closed the Pier 17 stabbing murder and how she did it. The discovery that Cassidy had taken the action that he instructed her not to was a surprise to him, but Dt. Hale felt compelled to not make an issue of it with her because of the celebratory mood in the office. He also felt some gratitude toward Cassidy for adding the arrest to the team’s total.

In the squad room, members of the other two detective teams told Detectives Greene, Russo and Washington about Cassidy’s single-handed collar of the Pier 17 murderer and his three accomplices. Cassidy’s three team members were amazed and confused; Dt. Vera Washington added a hefty helping of spite. When Cassidy came out of Lt. Laughton’s office and went to her desk, Russo and Greene softly applauded her. Vera gave her an angry glare.


	16. To Each His Own

It was a quarter past midnight, Thursday night, when Tony backed his car into the driveway of Jeremiah’s home. The lights inside and out of the house were off. Tony was not surprised by the darkened domicile because he called ahead to have the house prepared for his arrival. The neighbors were inside, the street was quiet, and Jeremiah’s car was out of the driveway. When the car came to a stop, Tony quickly shut off the engine, got out of the car and opened the trunk. Lola was just as he had left her, wrapped in a bed spread and motionless. Tony lifted her out of the trunk and swiftly carried her to the back door of Jeremiah’s home.

“Get the trunk,” Tony commanded Jeremiah who was holding open the rear door to the house.

Tony hurried through the kitchen and up the stairs to the second level with Lola in his arms. He carried Lola to the room he had been occupying and gently laid her in the center of the bed there. Then he turned on the overhead light and began unwrapping Lola from the bedspread. He fussed with the bedding in a attempt to situate Lola in a comfortable position; then be backed away to examine his work.

“You turned her?” Jeremiah queried after entering the room.

Tony ignored the question. He knew that there was never any doubt between him and Jeremiah that his plan was to turn Lola. Her mildly emaciated form was also clear evidence that his vampire blood was active inside her corpse. They both had become familiar with the progression of the vampire infection and how the virus consumed the body as fuel during the transition process. Lola’s visibly gaunt appearance was a clear indicator that she was on her way to becoming a vampire. 

“How are things at the stash house?” Tony asked with a stern look.

“Okay, I suppose,” Jeremiah answered with a slight shrug.

“What do you mean, you suppose?” Tony sharply challenged.

“Somebody would have called if anything happened,” Jeremiah countered as if speaking the obvious.

“I told you to stay with the stuff,” Tony angrily hissed.

“I was busy. I had things to do,” Jeremiah returned with temper. “You’re not the only person here with a life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Jerry?” Tony grumbled while positioning himself directly in front of Jeremiah.

“I had personal business to take care of,” Jeremiah answered with an annoyed frown. “Is that alright with you?”

“This personal business kept you away from the stash for two days?” Tony challenged scornfully.

“That’s right. I had things to do,” Jeremiah returned with temper.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Jerry?” Tony growled while stepping forward with a furious glare.

Tony and Jeremiah were a foot apart and looking at each other eye to eye. Jeremiah returned Tony’s angry glare as he defiantly inched forward. Jeremiah’s eyes began to glint from the light reflecting off his retina.

“Back off, Tony,” Jeremiah growled beneath his voice. “I’m not one of your muscle headed thugs. I have a stake in this.”

Tony was surprised by Jeremiah’s appearance of defiance. He had never known his old friend to be so angry and near to violence. Tony took a step back and examined his old friend down and up. He quickly came to the realization that Jeremiah was no longer a meek mortal. He was a strong and willful vampire.

“This is important, Jerry,” Tony warned without the anger. “We’ve got more money than we can afford to lose riding on this.”

“Then maybe you should have stayed here and kept an eye on things,” Jeremiah returned.

Once again, Tony was startled by the response from his oldest friend. He gave Jeremiah a suspicious look.

“What are you doing, Jerry?” Tony queried with an apprehensive frown.

Jeremiah considered the question for a couple seconds before relenting. He knew that Tony was going to learn the truth now that he was back, so he chose not to make an issue of it.

“Come on,” Jeremiah instructed as he turned away.

Tony followed Jeremiah out of the bedroom, down through the house to the basement staircase. The moment Jeremiah opened the door to the stairwell, Tony heard faint sounds of movement coming from the basement. When they reached the bottom of the stairwell, Tony got his first look at Jeremiah’s personal business.

“Let me go,” Patricia Boyd huffed at Jeremiah with exhaustion.

Patricia was on her knees in the center of the basement. A chain was still padlocked around her leg just above the ankle, and the other end was padlocked around the center support post that Patricia was leaning against. Her physique was gaunt nearly to the description of skeletal. Her wasted appearance was matched by her sluggish movements and dower facial expression. It was clear to Tony that she barely had the strength to sit up.

“Let me go,” Patricia hopefully panted at Tony a moment later.

Tony studied her and her situation. It was clear to him that Jeremiah had already turned her into a vampire. At the end of his examination, Tony turned his attention toward Jeremiah.

“What is this?” Tony gruffly inquired of Jeremiah with a scowl. 

“She’s mine,” Jeremiah insisted with determination.

“Jerry,” Tony challenged. “We’ve got bigger things to do than chase—girls,” he finished with a stumble.

“You have Lola,” Jeremiah angrily countered. “Patricia belongs to me.”

“Look at her,” Tony growled. “She doesn’t want to be here. She could expose us.”

“I’ll control her,” Jeremiah growled back.

“No, he won’t” Patricia yelled as best she could. “Let me go,” she weakly continued.

“You dumb fuck!” Tony roared back with ferocity while grabbing Jeremiah by the top of his shirt and pushing him back a step. “You turned her! How in the hell do you expect to control her?”

As soon as Tony finished speaking, Jeremiah pushed him with away with one violent heave.

“She hasn’t eaten anything,” Jeremiah roared at Tony with the beginnings of fangs showing in his teeth. “She’s as weak as a newborn puppy.”

They stood and glared at each other for several seconds. Then Tony turned his attention toward Patricia and gave her emaciated form a quick look.

“You keep her quiet and under control,” Tony insisted with point and a stern look at Jeremiah. “The instant she becomes a problem, I’m putting her down.”

Tony and Jeremiah exchanged angry stares and scowls before Tony turned and went back up the stairs.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“Aah!” Lola screeched while sitting up in one sudden lurch.

It was early Friday morning when Lola Keener found her mind in a dissociative fog. Her name and location were beyond the reach of her to recall, and neither had yet become a question for her. An instinctive sensation of terror is what motivated her scream. An instant later she had her first rational thought, and it was the realization that she was in no immediate danger. Her next thought was to understand her confusion. She began looking around for clues to who and where she was. It took a little time for her mind to reconstruct the memory of her own identity and the event that occurred just before she lost consciousness.

The sound of someone moving outside the room prompted her to hurry out of the bed and to move away from the bedroom door. Lola’s substantial loss of weight added speed to her movements, but the exertion nearly drained her starved and emaciated body of all energy. Motivated by a feeling of dread, she pressed her back against the wall opposite the door. She had no place to run and hide. When the door began to open, she suddenly transformed from a terrorized human to a feral vampire. When the door was fully open, Lola’s teeth, minus fangs, were borne, and her fingernails were dug into the wall behind her.

“Lola, it’s me,” Tony gently assured from the doorway.

Tony paused just inside the room with his hands open and in front of him.

“You’re safe,” Tony continued. “You’re safe.”

Over the next several seconds, Lola’s hostility changed into a nervous calm. She relaxed her stance and looked at Tony with wary eyes.

“You’re okay, babe,” Tony continued to speak in a soothing tone.

Tony took three steps into the room and stopped.

“What happened? Where am I?” Lola quickly asked with a panicked voice.

“You’re in Queens,” Tony returned. “This is Jerry’s house.”

“What am I doing here?” Lola quickly yelled without regard for Tony’s response. “What did you do to me?” She continued while groping her neck.

“I can explain everything, babe,” Tony softly assured. “I just need you to relax.”

“You had fangs; can you explain that? You bit me—in the neck,” Lola nearly screamed at Tony. “Can you explain that?”

“Look,” Tony instructed with a point toward the vanity mirror atop the dresser.

Lola was reluctant to move. She examined Tony with suspicion.

“Go ahead,” Tony encouraged again. “Look.”

Lola carefully walked by Tony as he moved back. She stopped in front of the mirror and was instantly stunned by what she saw.

“What happened to me? What did you do?” Lola challenged with surprise.

“You’re like me now,” Tony declared with an emphasis of joy. “You’re immortal.”

Lola was shocked by her gaunt and haggard appearance. The reduction in her chronological appearance escaped Lola’s attention because of her deathly visage.

“What does that mean?” Lola asked with fear in her voice.

“Look.” Tony asserted with a forceful point toward the mirror. “You’ve lost thirty years,” he insisted.

Lola examined herself in the mirror and began to see what Tony had said. She marveled at herself for nearly a minute.

“How do you feel?” Tony cheerfully queried.

“Am I dying?” Lola asked ignoring Tony’s question.

“No, far from it,” Tony insisted with enthusiasm. “You’re getting better.”

“Then why am I so thin?” Lola asked in a voice laced with fear. “Why do I feel so tired?”

“You’re hungry,” Tony returned with a smile. “Come with me, babe,” he encouraged as he reached out his hand. “You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten.”

Lola allowed Tony to take her by the hand and lead her out the bedroom and down into the kitchen. After seating her at the kitchen table, Tony placed a raw steak on a plate in front of her along with a glass of water.

“What? Am I supposed to eat that?” Lola asked in amazement. 

Tony sat at the right angle from Lola and gave an amused smile to her complaint. At first, Lola was confused by Tony’s unwillingness to respond to her question. Several seconds later she was baffled by his silence and his devious smile. It was shortly into this bewilderment that the smell of the raw meat began to excite her appetite. She leaned forward to take in more of the scent of the meat. She soon began to inhale the aroma of the raw flesh and the faint smell of blood. Tony continued patiently waiting and shortly noticed that she had forgotten he was there. Seconds later, Lola pinched off a smidge of meat and placed it in her mouth. Then she took another smidge, and shortly after that she was holding the steak with both hands and ripping into it with large bites. After consuming three bites, Lola suddenly stopped and began using her thumb to feel her teeth. Her face displayed a mixture of shock and fear at the feel of her elongated canines.

“What—what’s happening to me?” Lola asked with a stunned expression.

“Don’t worry,” Tony quickly returned in a soft voice. “You’re growing fangs, but it’s just temporary. When you get excited or angry—when your adrenaline gets to pumping, you grow fangs and claws. But they get brittle and break off when you calm down.”

Lola amazed by what she just heard, and then the smell of the meat drew her attention back. Three steaks and half an hour later, Lola was feeling invigorated and powerful. Sitting was not an option. She was up on her feet pacing, twirling and dancing about the kitchen while Tony explained what she had become. She was feeling powerful and vitalized to a degree that made it unlike any sensation she had ever felt before.

“So, we’re what—vampires?” Lola queried with a mixture of astonishment and exhilaration.

“Yes,” Tony asserted enthusiastically.

The word immortal intrigued Lola, and she shortly went back to her dance of self-admiration. Tony sat back in his chair and enjoyed the sight of his longtime love’s delight with her new body. Lola was looking healthier and much more attractive than she was before her meal. Her cheeks were no longer sunken. The age lines in her face were dissipating by the minute. Her double chin and the bags beneath her eyes were gone. The transformation of her body into the shapely and healthy physique she possessed in her mid-twenties was nearly complete. Tony was a few seconds into his enjoyment of Lola’s enthusiastic acceptance of her new state of being when he began hearing yells of “help” coming up from the basement.

“Who’s that?” Lola called out while coming to a sudden stop.

“Patricia,” Tony grudgingly reported.

“Patricia?” Lola challenge while looking down in the direction of the calls for help. “Patricia who?”

“Jerry’s girl,” Tony explained with a dubious shake of his head. “He’s got her chained in the basement.”

“What?” Lola questioned looking at Tony in surprise.

After Tony gave her a shrug in response, Lola hurried off for the basement staircase. Tony followed behind as she made her way down the staircase to the basement. She came to a sudden stop at the bottom of the stairs with Tony one stair step behind and up. Lola was astounded to see the young and emaciated female tethered to the basement’s center support column by a ten-foot-long chain and padlocks.

“Help me,” Patricia faintly pleaded with an outstretched hand toward Lola.

Patricia had a frail and weak appearance. She looked as if she could barely stand up.

“What are you doing?” Lola queried with an astonished look back at Tony.

“It’s not me,” Tony returned with a defensive shrug. “That’s Jerry’s doing.”

“But she looks like she’s at death’s door,” Patricia disputed with a shocked expression.

“No more than you or me, babe,” Tony replied with a smile.

Lola did not miss the inference in Tony’s words, as she quickly looked back at Patricia in complete surprise.

“She’s like us?” Lola asked with wide eyed astonishment.

“Help me,” Patricia continued to plead weakly and without regard for the conversation that Lola and Tony were having.

“Yeah,” Tony nonchalantly replied to Lola’s question. “Jerry turned her.”

“Jerry is a vampire too?” Lola asked with a look of surprise.

“Yeah, babe,” Tony answered with a sly smile. “And there’s going to be more of us. We’re going to be big,” he finished with a smug smile.

Lola paused to digest Tony’s declaration that they were going to be big. She knew from experience that Tony was entertaining ideas that he expected to make him rich and powerful, and the thought of what his plans were gave her cause to worry. Lola knew that there was no limit to Tony’s ambition. In the past, it was the limits of his resources that restrained his efforts, and even that did not save him from being arrested and imprisoned.

“Why is she chained?” Lola asked after the pause.

“She hasn’t adjusted to her new… situation,” Tony carefully expressed. “Come on, babe,” Tony encouraged with a gesture of his head. “Jerry will take care of her when he wakes up.”

Tony led Lola up the stairs and back to the bedroom. Along the way, he explained why Jerry was asleep in his room in the middle of the day and why she needed to do the same.

“So, this is going to be my new life?” Lola pondered to herself as she slowly strolled about the room and examined its contents. “Sleeping away the day—hiding from the sun,” she softly mumbled.

Lola was deep into her muse when she began to feel sexually aroused. The sensation caused her to pant lustfully. She was surprised at her unusually sudden arousal. She quickly turned and noticed Tony examining her with an amorous stare. She instantly understood that he was causing her arousal and an instant more to conclude that she did not care. In a rush, she crossed the room, threw her arms around Tony’s neck and pulled him into a feverish flurry of kissing. Tony matched her salacious frenzy. They stripped each other’s clothes off and were copulating in just minutes. After several orgasms, Tony and Lola slumped back onto opposite sides of the bed and fell into an exhausted sleep.


	17. Midnight Rides

“Hello,” Cassidy announced into her cellphone.

“Hi,” the female voice on the other end of the call excitedly responded. “You weren’t sleeping, were you?”

“Who is this?” Cassidy challenged abruptly.

“It’s me, _Flavia_ ,” the voice gleefully confirmed. “Hi.”

Cassidy instantly recalled that _Flavia_ and _Radu_ were the Dacia names for Alexandra and Ryan.

“What do you want?” Cassidy asked in an annoyed tone of voice.

“We got a surprise for you,” Alexandra eagerly declared. “You need to come to the Avenue J Station at East 16th Street.”

“Tell her to hurry up,” Ryan called from the background.

“Okay,” Alexandra acknowledged to Ryan’s instruction. “And hurry,” she instructed Cassidy. 

“It’s after eight,” Cassidy challenged. “Why are you calling me?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” Alexandra excitedly returned. “You need to get here quickly.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Cassidy complained with irritation.

“But you must. You’ll be glad you did,” Alexandra assured in voice filled with joy.

“There’s zero chance of that,” Cassidy disputed snidely.

“You want to bet? I can’t wait to see your face when we show you,” Alexandra cheerfully countered.

“Tell her we found him,” Ryan asserted.

“Found who?” Cassidy questioned sharply.

“I want it to be a surprise,” Alexandra whined.

“Tell me what this is about or I’m hanging up,” Cassidy insisted with vehemence.

“We found the killer,” Alexandra dejectedly reported.

“What killer?” Cassidy questioned with a mixture of suspicion and dread in her voice.

“You know,” Alexandra continued to speak in a despondent tone. “The guy who shot that bodega owner.”

“Gary Bibb,” Ryan spoke over Alexandra.

“What?” Cassidy yelled in shock.

“Yeah, we found him,” Alexandra declared proudly.

“And if you want to arrest him tonight then you better get down here,” Ryan called out in the background.

“Did you hear that?” A thrilled Alexandra asked.

Cassidy began to seethe with annoyance. She was dubious that they had found the real killer. She knew from experience that the Gary Bibb murder investigation was almost impossible to solve without the addition of new evidence or with the help of an informant. What had her most annoyed was the knowledge that they had been poking around in her investigation.

“I told you to stay away from my investigations,” Cassidy loudly scolded.

“Yeah, but we didn’t think you meant it,” Alexandra stated in a childishly somber tone.

“I meant it,” Cassidy angrily grumbled into her cellphone. “Stay away from my cases,” she resolutely finished.

“Okay,” Alexandra glumly assented. “So, what do want us to do about these guys?”

“Who?” Cassidy questioned with a mixture of anger and curiosity.

“The killers,” Alexandra stated as if surprised to hear the question.

“Alexandra, there’s no way you could’ve found Gary Bibb’s killer in two days,” Cassidy insisted with exasperation in her voice.

“Yes, we did,” Alexandra disputed.

“Yeah, and if you don’t get down here, they may do it again,” Ryan spoke into Alexandra’s cellphone.

“What’s he talking about?” Cassidy asked with a mix of aggravation and intrigue.

“They’re coming here, tonight,” Alexandra quickly explained in her usual up-tempo voice. “And their planning to rob another bodega.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Cassidy bellowed into her cellphone. “You couldn’t have found Gary Bibb’s killer. If we haven’t found him then there’s no way…”

Before Cassidy could finish speaking, Ryan reached out and grabbed the cellphone. “Give me that,” he commanded while pulling the cellphone out of Alexandra’s hand.

“Detective, come or don’t come, that’s up to you” Ryan sharply directed before Cassidy could finish speaking. “But you’ve got until eleven o’clock and then we’re leaving.”

Ryan disconnected the call immediately after making that declaration. At first, Cassidy was angered by the way he spoke to her and his abrupt disconnect. Her first thought was to ignore the entire exchange and go back to her original plans. After fuming over the call, she changed her mind and punctuated the decision with a resounding, “damn it.”

Cassidy was preparing herself for a quick visit to the Cavern Nightclub to deliver the file she had on Tony McGuire to David _(Cristiãn)_. She knew that her decision to meet with Alexandra and Ryan was putting that plan in jeopardy. Cassidy still had her doubts that Alexandra and Ryan had found Gary Bibb’s killer. Unlike the Pier 17 stabbing where there were plenty of suspects, Cassidy knew that the Gary Bibb murder had no known suspects. She could not imagine who Alexandra and Ryan could hypnotically compel to identify the murderer. Because of Alexandra and Ryan’s childish behaviors, she thought it more likely that they had found someone who had committed a similar crime, but the thought they may have found a person was about to commit a crime is what swayed her to go meet with them.

Cassidy phoned David _(Cristiãn)_ and told him that she might not be able to make it to their meeting at The Cavern Nightclub.

“If I miss the meeting, I will bring the file to your home tomorrow morning, if that’s okay?” 

David _(Cristiãn)_ agreed to the morning meet. Cassidy told him nothing about the meeting she was going to with Alexandra and Ryan, and he did not ask. After she disconnected, she began preparing for her new destination.

It took Cassidy about an hour to change into functional clothing. The sitter for Cynthia and John had been schedule for the previous meeting, so no changes were needed there. Cassidy left the house at a quarter to ten. It was 10:39pm when she arrived at the Avenue J Subway Station. She parked her car a block down the street and approached the station on foot. Ryan and Alexandra got out of their car when they saw her approach.

“You came,” Alexandra cheerfully greeted.

“Yeah,” Cassidy grudgingly agreed coming to a stop in front of them. “So, where are they.”

“They’re coming,” Ryan flippantly advised.

“What do mean, they’re coming?” Cassidy questioned with a confused a look.

“They said they were going to be here just before the market closed,” Ryan explained dismissively.

Cassidy became noticeably peeved with Ryan’s lack of seriousness. It was bad enough that she had to make this detour in her plans, flippancy made this likely waste of time even more irritating.

“What are you talking about?” Cassidy challenged with extreme aggravation. “Who are these guys, and what makes you think they killed Gary Bibb?” 

“Because we found them,” Alexandra insisted with a nod and a smile.

“Their names are Jacob Gibson, Oren Webber and Darryl Jenkins,” Ryan immediately added with indifference. “But it was Darryl who shot Gary Bibb,” he continued. “He has the .38 revolver. They’re planning to rob Lorenzo’s Market & Deli down the street.”

Cassidy was taken aback by Ryan’s declaration that a robbery was about to occur. She was expecting Ryan and Alexandra to just point someone out to her. But either way, she was not convinced that they had found Gary Bibb’s killers.

“Wait. Wait. How do you know this Darryl person killed Gary Bibb?” Cassidy asked completely confused.

“We asked,” Alexandra returned as if speaking the obvious.

“You asked?” Cassidy mockingly repeated.

An instant later, Cassidy remembered the vampire’s gift for getting to the truth and abandoned her derision with a shake of her head.

“Okay, but how would you even know who to ask?” Cassidy challenged.

Cassidy spent the next five minutes listening to Ryan and Alexandra summarize their investigation. They related how Leslie Dunn, the Metro reporter, told them that the bullet that killed Gary Bibb was a possible match to a five-year-old unsolved murder in Harlem. They explained that Dunn told them who the persons of interest were in that shooting and where they were likely to be found today. They went on to recount how they spent much of Thursday and Friday entrancing and occasionally strong-arming more than two dozen individuals in Harlem to find the owner of that gun. And they finished with a report that it was an entranced Darryl Jenkins and Jacob Gibson who told them that they killed Gary Bibb and were planning this robbery.

Cassidy already knew about the possible ballistic match to a five-year-old unsolved murder in Harlem. Because the ballistic report showed only a 32% probability of a match, Cassidy was worried about wasting her time on a case that had nothing to do with her investigation, and she was dubious that a renewed investigation into an unsolved five-year-old murder would produce results. But it was because of these facts that she was sold on the accuracy of Ryan’s and Alexandra’s conclusion.

“They told you the robbery was going to happen tonight?” Cassidy questioned with an astonished inflection.

“More or less,” Ryan hesitantly returned.

“What does that mean?” Cassidy demanded with a stern expression.

“We may have pushed their timetable up a little bit,” Ryan explained with a shrug.

“You brainwashed them into doing it tonight?” Cassidy blared out with a look of shock.

“We didn’t think you would want to wait,” Alexandra defensively spoke.

“Somebody could get hurt,” Cassidy argued back with a stunned expression.

“We thought you would want to catch them in the act,” Ryan defended. “You didn’t like it the last time when we just told you who they were.”

“Jeez,” Cassidy exclaimed, tossing her arms. “When are they supposed to do this?”

“Ah, now,” Ryan answered with another shrug.

“Yeah,” Alexandra confirmed, nodding with excitement. “We saw them drive by a couple of times already.”

“Damn,” Cassidy yelled as she pulled her cellphone out of her jacket pocket.

It was Cassidy’s suspicion that the would-be robbers were scouting the neighborhood to make sure there were no police around and a minimum of pedestrians. Because she knew that the robbery had to happen before 11:00pm when the market closed, Cassidy hurried to get reinforcement in the area. Using her cellphone and badge number, she requested backup from the 70th Precinct for a possible armed robbery. She insisted on a silent approach and she advised them that she would be inside the market.

“I’ll keep the line open,” Cassidy instructed the dispatch officer. “Don’t move in until you hear the robbery going down.”

After giving that last instruction, Cassidy put her cellphone inside her jacket pocket. 

“Stay here,” Cassidy instructed Alexandra and Ryan.

Cassidy hurried down the street toward Lorenzo’s Market and Deli. It took her nearly a minute to get to the front of the store, and then she promptly went inside. The market was long and narrow with two grocery aisles, a deli counter and register along the right front wall. Behind the counter was a male salesclerk who looked to be in his late twenties.

“We’re closing in ten minutes,” the salesclerk called out as Cassidy entered the store.

Cassidy pulled out her badge and identification and quickly went over to the counter.

“I’m Detective Tremaine,” Cassidy announced as she extended her identification toward the salesclerk. “I believe there’s going to be an attempted armed robbery here. You should go in the back.”

“I’m not leaving the counter,” the salesclerk returned after a quick examination of Cassidy’s identification.

“Fine,” Cassidy returned without hesitation. “Do what they say, act natural and keep your hands where they can see them. More officers are coming.”

The salesclerk agreed with a dubious nod of his head. Cassidy knew that the salesclerk was unsure about her and what she said. She speculated that his doubt about her was why he chose to stay behind the counter. Cassidy also knew that time was not on her side. The would-be robbers had to be minutes if not seconds away from entering the store. Rather than get into a debate with the salesclerk, she chose to let him stay.

“What’s your name?” Cassidy asked in a commanding tone.

“Raymond,” the store clerk answered.

“Is there anyone in the back, Raymond?” Cassidy asked as she looked about the store.

“No,” the salesclerk answered as he continued to look at Cassidy as though she was a liar or insane.

Cassidy quickly noted that the store was empty of patrons, and then she took a second to ponder what to do next. Her decision was to conceal her gun and holster behind her back and beneath her jacket. She then grabbed a shopping basket and tossed several random items into it. While she milled about the grocery aisle pretending to shop for goods, the salesclerk noted her with a mixture of confusion and concern. In his mind, the sight of Cassidy’s gun and holster added weight to her claim that robbers were about to enter the store. Cassidy was just past two minutes into her shopping charade when three young males raced into the store, one behind the other, with handguns out and at the ready. Each man was wearing baseball caps and a colorful neck gaiter that was pulled up over the lower halves of their faces.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Robber One yelled out as he raced over to the front of the counter with his gun pointed at the salesclerk. “Show me your hands! Show me your hands!”

The salesclerk was shocked and frightened by what was rapidly unfolding before him. He quickly raised his hands up off the counter as instructed. While this was happening, Robber Two raced deeper into the store and shortly found Cassidy halfway down the right aisle. Robber Three locked the front door and put the Store Closed sign on display.

“Hey, come here! Come here!” Robber Two commanded Cassidy while pointing his gun at her.

Cassidy feigned shock and fear as the young man approached her with his gun directed at her head. She repeatedly responded with “okay” as Robber Two took her by the arm and began pulling her to the front of the store.

“Don’t hurt me. Don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me,” Cassidy pleaded in her best imitation of a terrified civilian.

As Robber Two was hauling Cassidy to the front of the store, Robber Three raced behind the counter.

“Open the register,” Robber Three yelled as he brought his handgun up to the salesclerk’s head.

The salesclerk opened the register as instructed and was then promptly pulled away and directed out from behind the counter. Robber One kept a gun on the salesclerk as Robber Three collected the cash from the register and stuffed it in his jacket pocket. Robber Two pushed Cassidy toward the salesclerk so that they were standing side by side. In just under thirty seconds, Robber Three was done collecting the cash from the register.

“Move,” Robber One ordered Cassidy and the salesclerk with a gesture toward the rear of the store. “Take me to the safe.”

Cassidy and the salesclerk were just about to move toward the back of the store when the sound of multiple sirens began resounding from two directions. In that moment, the three robbers turned to look out the front window of the store. As they turned toward the window, Cassidy pulled her gun from the holster situated on the backside of her right hip and beneath her jacket. In one swift movement she grabbed the second gunman by the collar and pulled him off balance while pressing the nuzzle of her gun against the base of his head.

“Police!” Cassidy shouted in a commanding tone of voice. “Move and I’ll blow your head off,” she loudly exclaimed.

The words and action of Cassidy along with the feel of her gun against the back of his head shocked Robber Two into a hand’s up stationary posture. Robbers One and Three turned about just as Cassidy spoke. As they brought their guns up, she pulled the second gunman to the side so that he was directly between them and her. The salesclerk stood behind Cassidy in a state of terror and confusion.

“Police!” Cassidy called out again. “Put down the guns,” she insisted in a stern word-for-word delivery.

Robber One and Three were nearly as confused as the salesclerk. The stunning discovery that the terrified lady shopper was a police officer was competing for their attention with the growing assembly of police officers outside and their calls for them to come out with their hands up. For a few seconds there was a silent standoff between the robbers and Cassidy. Robber One and Three did not know what to do. During their moment of indecision, an additional three police cars screeched to a stop in the street outside the store to bring the total to five.

“Think it through, guys,” Cassidy advised in a calm voice. “You’ve got no way out, and you don’t want to add the murder of a police officer to the charges that you’re facing. Think it through.”

Cassidy was slowly moving back toward the left grocery aisle as she spoke.

“Raymond, stay behind me,” Cassidy commanded the salesclerk.

The salesclerk maintained his position behind Cassidy as she moved back toward the opening to left grocery aisle. Robbers One and Three were positioned along the front wall next to the storefront window with their attentions fixed on the growing number of police officers taking defensive positions in front of the store.

“Okay, Raymond, I’m going to need you to move to the end of the aisle and lay flat on the floor.”

Cassidy moved into the front of the right aisle as Raymond hurried to the far end of it. Robber One turned to note their actions and then started to move toward the rear of the store.

“Don’t do it,” Cassidy sharply cautioned Robber One. “Things are going to get messy real quick if you do,” she threatened while giving Robber Two’s head a nudge with the barrel of her gun.

Robber One instantly stopped in reaction to Cassidy’s warning. He thought to use the store clerk as a hostage and a shield, but Cassidy’s threat to fire her weapon gave him cause to stay where he was. He feared to shoot at Cassidy while she was using Robber Two as a shield, and he worried that any gunfire would bring in the police outside.

“Guys, she’s got a gun at the back of my head,” Robber Two reported fretfully.

Raymond got to the floor just as Cassidy came to a stop inside the front of the aisle.

“Put the gun on the shelf,” Cassidy ordered as fiercely as she could while pressing the nuzzle of her gun hard into the back of Robber Two’s head.

Robber Two hesitated to act. He looked back and forth between his two comrades with terrified eyes. After a moment of hesitation, he heard Cassidy cock the handgun she had pressed against the back of his head.

“Okay, okay,” Robber Two agreed in a voice thick with fear.

As Robber Two reached out and shelved his gun, Robber One and Three watched in silence. Their attentions repeatedly switched back and forth between Cassidy and the police officers who were accumulating outside the store.

“Think it through, guys,” Cassidy spoke with deadly seriousness while pushing Robber Two out of the aisle and away from his gun. “You’ve got no play here. You can either walk out of here in handcuffs or be carried out in body bags,” she threatened after stopping in front of the two aisles. “Which is it going to be?”

Robber One and Three looked back and forth between Cassidy and the police outside the store and then to each other before silently deciding to lower their weapons. Cassidy quickly ordered them to put their guns on the floor and then to slide them off to the side. She then ordered all three down to their knees and then face down on the floor.

“Raymond, unlock the door,” Cassidy instructed the salesclerk in a commanding tone.

Now in a daze fueled by fear and amazement, the salesclerk got up from the floor, hurried to the front of the store and carefully moved around the prostrate would-be robbers. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. The sound of several officers calling out “hands up” could be heard coming from outside. The salesclerk quickly complied with these commands.

“Okay, guys, you can come in now,” Cassidy spoke up so that she could be heard through her cellphone microphone.

It took several seconds for Cassidy’s instruction to be relayed to the uniform officers outside. When the officers moved into the store, Cassidy held up her badge and identification for all to see. Raymond looked on in awe as the arrests were completed. He watched Cassidy blend in with the throng of uniformed police officers who were securing the area and removing the would-be robber in separate vehicles. After a short period, he lost sight of her in the confusion. After nearly a minute of visually searching, Raymond concluded that the lady police officer who had awed him so completely was no longer in the vicinity.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“What’s going on here?” Tony grumbled after walking through the back door of the stash house.

Keegan, Charlie and Malcolm were sitting in reclined positions in different locations of the storage room. A medium size television was displaying an old movie while the trio watched while doodling with playing cards, a pencil and notepad, and a smartphone’s internet connection, respectively. But it was not what they were doing that prompted Tony’s temper; it was what they did not do that spurred his anger. They did not defensively rise from their chairs when he entered the storage room.

“Nothing, that’s what’s going on,” Keegan returned with a tone heavily laced with sarcasm.

It was 12:38am, Friday night when Keegan, Charlie and Malcolm showed no inclination to jump to attention for Tony. They continued to act as if they barely noticed he was there.

“You’re supposed to be guarding this place,” Tony roared at the three of them.

“From what?” Malcolm growled after quickly sitting up, “a mouse—a stray dog? We’ve been here four days and five nights twiddling our thumbs. What have you been doing?”

Tony was enraged by Malcolm’s response. He was not prepared to accept this level of disrespect from Charlie despite their long association with him. He thought of Malcolm and Keegan as his ensigns and Charlie and Ben as his lieutenants. He took a pause to give his two ensigns an angry glare, and then he went to the television and turned it off.

“What I do is my business,” Tony furiously growled with a combative stance.

Malcolm and Keegan quickly rose to their feet to match Tony’s ferocity. Their defiance surprised Tony, but he maintained his posture. Moments into this standoff, Tony looked toward Charlie and began to assess his disposition.

“You shouldn’t have just left us alone with no word about what you’re doing or when you’d be back,” Charlie lectured testily while maintaining his seat. “We’re in this together.”

Tony was surprised to hear Charlie lecture him. He had never known Charlie to consider himself as his equal. It only took Tony a couple of seconds to connect the defiance he was seeing from Charlie, Malcolm, Keegan and Jeremiah with their transformations into vampires. He understood how much they had improved physically and mentally because of his own transformation from human to vampire. After a moment of thought, he decided it was not wise to push the disagreement they were having.

“I had personal business to attend to,” Tony announced with a breath and a much softer tone. “It’s done now. I’m back.”

Tony waited for a response, if any was to come. And it soon came from Malcom.

“Yeah, well it’s about time. I’m tired of being cooped up in here.”

“Just a few days more,” Tony assured. “Once we get this stuff on the street, you won’t ever have to look at this place again.”

“That sounds good to me,” Keegan acclaimed.

Tony gave no note to Keegan’s approval. His thoughts had turned to a new subject.

“Where’s Ben?” Tony asked as he looked around with curiosity.

Silence followed Tony’s question. Malcolm and Keegan deferred to Charlie who showed a reluctance to speak on the subject. The sudden quiet did not escape Tony’s notice, and he promptly suspected Ben was not in the building or running an errand.

“Where is he?” Tony angrily grumbled.

“He went out Tuesday and we haven’t heard from him since,” Charlie returned in a voice laced with defiance.

“What the fuck?” Tony roared with fury. “I told you, all of you, to stay here. Why did you let him go?”

“If you wanted him here, then you should have been here to stop him,” Charlie loudly growled back. “I’m not your jailer, Tony.”

Once again Tony was outraged by what he perceived to be insolence from people he considered his subordinate.

“You’re whatever I say you are,” Tony yelled as he stepped toward Charlie.

Instantly, Charlie jumped to his feet and checked Tony’s advance with a fierce posture a foot in front of him. The two vampires were suddenly locked in an angry staring contest. For several seconds they did nothing but glare at each other. Despite Tony’s rage, he was loathed to do anything that might turn any member of his team of vampires into an adversary.

“Hey, he’s coming back,” Keegan spoke up to break the silence.

“When?” Tony demanded with a furious look toward Keegan.

“I don’t know,” Keegan returned with an indifferent shrug. “But he did say he’s coming back.”

“That doesn’t help me,” Tony spoke with scorn. “I’ve got plans for tonight and I need him here.”

Charlie, Malcolm and Keegan’s interests perked up when they heard that Tony had plans, and they promptly questioned him about them.

Tony informed them that Tommie Grasso threatened war if he saw their coke on the streets in his territory. He explained that the local drug dealers were afraid to buy from him.

“We’re going to take care of Tommie Grasso tomorrow tonight,” Tony instructed with a solemn look to each vampire in front of him. “That is why I need him here.”

Tony continued to fume over Ben’s absence for several minutes. Charlie, Malcolm and Keegan gave no attention to Tony’s displeasure, they were too busy being giddy over the idea that they were finally going to put their excess energy to use.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“What’s going on with you?” Detective Hale scolded as he hurried toward Cassidy.

It was 1:44am Friday night. Cassidy was seated at a desk in the 70th Precinct while typing in her report on the arrests she made that night. Detective Hale’s sudden appearance happened in the middle of her typing. She instantly stopped typing, looked around and then got up from her chair just as Detective Hale came to a stop in front of her.

“Excuse me?” Cassidy inquired with a confused expression.

“Come on, don’t play dumb with me detective,” Detective Hale gruffly challenged. “You go off on your own and make an arrest for the second time in a week. Do you want to explain why you didn’t come to me for permission to run this—this—sting?”

“It wasn’t a sting,” Cassidy defensively blurted. “It just happened.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you were doing some midnight shopping in a Brooklyn bodega when this attempted robbery just happened to occur?” Detective Hale snidely queried. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me, Detective Tremaine?”

“Ah, no, that’s not what happened,” Cassidy hesitantly disputed.

“Good, because I was told you called in the blue and whites before anything went down,” Detective Hale sarcastically stated. “So, tell me, detective, how did that happen?”

“Yeah well, I was tracking these guys and when I realized something was about to go down. I then called for backup,” Cassidy fumbled out with nervous hand gestures.

“Tracking them—so, you were following them?” Detective Hale teased out.

Cassidy knew that Detective Hale was waiting to hear why she was following these men, and the report she was typing into the NYPD computer had that explanation. But the fact that she had an explanation did not ease her reluctance for giving it to Detective Hale face-to-face.

“I believe the .38 revolver used in this attempted robbery is going to be a match for the weapon used in the Gary Bibb murder,” Cassidy explained after a pause.

“Really,” Detective Hale responded with a sigh of exasperation. “And you didn’t think to tell the team you had a suspect for the Gary Bibb shooting?”

“I didn’t know I had one until a couple hours before everything went down,” Cassidy explained quickly and defensively.

“And you couldn’t call?” Detective challenged with a suspicious glare.

“The information was weak,” Cassidy countered in a hurry. “I wasn’t…”

“What information?” Detective abruptly questioned. “Where did you get it from?”

“A CI,” Cassidy answered with a shrug. “He put me onto a name—a possible. I was looking into it when this started going down.”

Detective Hale gave Cassidy a dubious stare for several seconds.

“This lone wolf business stops now,” Detective Hale instructed with a heavy intonation of insistence. “You need to start talking to me about what you’re doing, Detective Tremaine.”

“Yeah, I will,” Cassidy immediately concurred. “This won’t happen again. I promise.”

Detective Hale gave Cassidy a stern look, and she gave him a nod and a faint smile.


	18. Saturday, Saturday

The Saturday morning sunrise was two hours away and Lola Keener was nowhere near ready for sleep. She had spent the whole night admiring and maintaining her newborn vampire body. She had just finished taking a long bath when she stopped to marvel at herself in the mirror. In Lola felt that was the best day of her life. She was thrilled to be a vampire, and for the first time in her life she rejoiced in her decision to get involved with Tony McGuire over thirty years ago.

When Lola was twenty years old, partying and having a good time were her primary interests. The last thing she wanted was a conventional life and in a fixed relationship with one man. Lola wanted to be on the guest list of the most lavish parties and events in New York, and she had no reservations about using her looks and sex appeal to open those doors. When Tony first appeared in her life, Lola repelled his advances. To her, Tony had multiple attributes that she did not care for and first among them was her belief that he was a fiercely possessive man. Lola knew from the start that Tony was a violent thug, something she wanted nothing to do with. The idea of Tony claiming her as his own personal property made Lola wary of him. She knew that a jealous lover would conflict with her tendency toward promiscuity. Tony also had the unfortunate characteristic of not being a social bon vivant or someone who kept company with the people who were. It was for these reasons that Lola backed away when Tony first began to pursue her, but it was the circumstances of her own existence that soon persuaded her to give him a second look.

Lola’s party-girl lifestyle was nearly wholly financed by the men she dated. Frequently her wants and wishes were hampered by the financial limitations of the man of the hour, and Tony’s greatest virtue was that he always had plenty of money. It also helped that he enjoyed spending his money on her. Tony’s unbounded adoration for her quickly made him putty in her hands, and she was loathed to throw that away. On a whim, she committed herself to him and made herself at home inside his world. As time went on, their mix of greed, adoration, promiscuity and possessiveness produced an ever-growing number of squabbles and fights, and on more than one occasion the fight was with another man. Over the years that they were together, their verbal and physical altercations kept the passion in the bed alive, but it did nothing more than that for Lola. Tony was always just the man of the hour and never the love of her life. And when Tony went to prison, she moved on without looking back. But today, she reveled in the benefit that her long past association with Tony had now produced.

It took Lola nearly an hour to find something in Jeremiah’s closet that she could wear. Her own cloths were dirty and now several sizes too big; Tony’s wardrobe was equally oversized. Jeremiah had the misfortune of being petite by male standards, so consequently, Lola turned to his closet for clean clothes to wear. She soon found a clean dress shirt, suit pants, belt and suit coat that she deemed acceptable for the present. After dressing herself in Jeremiah’s clothes, Lola turned her attention to the sounds that had been coming up from the basement for more than an hour.

“Get this asshole away from me,” Patricia strenuously implored Lola in between her winded breathing.

Lola had just arrived in the basement when Patricia made this plea to her. The petite and tattooed twenty-year-old waitress was holding onto the basement’s center stanchion. The chain that was padlocked around her ankle was padlocked to that same pole at the opposite end of the chain. Positioned in a stoop next to Patricia was Jeremiah. His demeanor looked to be pleasant if not excessively friendly, but this did not stop Patricia from wincing every time Jeremiah gently stroked her hair.

“What are you doing, Jerry?” Lola asked disapprovingly.

“I’m getting to know Pat,” Jeremiah answered with a smile.

“Get him away from me,” Patricia pleaded as she cringed away from Jeremiah.

Patricia was mostly skin and bone. The once very pretty, young lady was now a gaunt and haggard shadow of that person.

“Well, can’t that wait until she can at least stand up?” Lola queried with disbelief.

“She needs to accept me now,” Jeremiah insisted in a soft voice that was directed at Patricia.

Jeremiah elected not to tell Lola that he was eager for Patricia to flourish to full health but that he dared not let that happen while she was still rejecting him.

“It looks to me like she doesn’t want to know you,” Lola mused with a hint of sarcasm.

“This is none of your business,” Jeremiah grumbled with a sideways glance at Lola. “We’re mates.”

“What does that mean?” A confused Lola queried with a scrunched face.

“I made her,” Jeremiah fervently stated. “She’s mine. She belongs to me.”

“So, just because you made her what she is now, that means she’s attached to you in some way?” Lola asked while pondering her own question.

“What? You think what was going on between you and Tony all night was some newfound love,” Jeremiah sarcastically countered. “Don’t forget, I know you, Lola. You’ve never been in love with Tony. It was always about the money for you.”

Jeremiah gave Lola an exaggerated look of incredulity.

“He made you,” Jeremiah stressed with vehemence. “You’re connected.”

Lola was intrigued by the word connected and fixed her stare onto Jeremiah while maintaining a questioning expression.

“Connected how?” Lola asked with suspicion.

“All I know is that vampires mate for life,” Jeremiah expressed as though he was annoyed by the question. “Tony says it has something to do with reciprocal psychotropic pheromones,” he continued accentuating his exasperation. “When he gets horny, you get horny. That’s how it works, sweetheart,” he finished with heavy sarcasm.

While Lola mused over this new information, Jeremiah turned his attention back to Patricia.

“You know, you should be thanking me,” Jeremiah whispered with a smile while stroking Patricia’s hair. “I’ve given you a gift. We’re going to be together for a long, long time.”

“Keep away from me, creep,” Patricia angrily puffed while shrinking away from Jeremiah’s touch.

“Jerry, leave the girl alone,” Lola articulated as though she was seeing something pathetic.

Instantly, Jeremiah jumped up to face Lola with no more than a foot of distance between them. He wore an expression of rage as he put the point of his finger in her face.

“You stay out of this,” Jeremiah growled into Lola’s face. “This has nothing to do with you.”

Lola was at first shocked and frightened by Jeremiah’s response to her words. She remembered him as almost mousey in his demeanor; the Jeremiah she knew would never have raised his voice to Tony’s woman. In the time it took Lola to take a deep breath, her fear turned to anger. Her astounded expression quickly changed into an angry scowl.

“The girl doesn’t like you,” Lola stated after a few seconds of glaring at Jeremiah with light reflecting eyes.

“She will,” Jeremiah grumbled back with eyes that were equally predatory. “She has too. I’m her mate,” Jeremiah finished in a loud voice.

Lola and Jeremiah went into a staring contest as each fumed and waited for the other to take their anger to the next level. Shortly into their standoff, Jeremiah’s cellphone began to vibrate. He let it vibrate several times before stepping back from Lola and taking the call.

“Yeah,” Jeremiah answered into his cellphone while moving toward the far end of the basement. “Yeah—yeah, everything is okay here—now?” He questioned impatiently. “But the sun is going to be up in an hour,” he halfheartedly complained after several seconds of listening to his caller. “Okay, okay,” he spoke after a few seconds of silence and then he disconnected the call.

Lola stepped back from her anger when Jeremiah moved away. She listened to his side of the call and quickly discerned that it was Tony on the other end. She silently waited for Jeremiah to complete his conversation, because she wanted to know if Tony said something for her.

“I got to go,” Jeremiah informed Lola as he put away his cellphone. “I won’t be back until after sunset,” he continued while slowly moving toward Patricia. “If anything happens, give me a call,” he finished just as he stopped to admire his captive.

“What do you mean, if something happens?” Lola challenged just before Jeremiah could turn away.

“I don’t know,” Jeremiah stopped to answer with a shrug and a scowl. “Anything… if the building catches fire, give me a call,” he finished and then started for the stairs.

“And what about her?” Lola loudly asked with a gesture toward Patricia.

“Leave her alone,” Jeremiah commanded in an angry tone of voice.

“Leave her alone?” Lola questioned with disbelief. “She looks half dead,” she cried in astonishment.

“She’ll be fine,” Jeremiah yelled back. “Just leave her alone, and don’t feed her,” he instructed with finality.

Lola watched Jeremiah hurry up the stairs and through the basement doorway before turning her attention to Patricia.

“Help me,” Patricia pleaded pathetically from her crumple position on the floor.

“Hey, you’re going to be alright,” Lola assured softly.

Patricia ignored Lola’s words and continued to plead piteously. Lola was clearly moved by her calls. Her thoughts vacillated between reassuring her or just leaving. After a moment of thought, Lola decided on the latter and left Patricia alone in the basement.

Lola spent the next ten minutes talking with Jeremiah as he prepared to leave. She wanted to extract as much information from him as she could before he left. She was curious to know what Tony’s end plan was, but Jeremiah evaded her inquiry on that subject. He knew Tony would tell her what he wanted her to know when he wanted her to know it. What Jeremiah did speak about were his concerns about leaving her alone in the house. He stressed that no one was to come into the house, and he admonished her against feeding Patricia on two more occasions. He also warned Lola against exposing what she was to humans.

“If they don’t kill you, they will lock you up and never let you go.”

After explaining these dangers to Lola, Jeremiah left the house and took off for the stash house. Over the next four hours, Lola attempted to distract herself with the television. For Lola, sleeping through the daylight hours had yet to become a realistic option. Watching television had the added benefit of drowning out the soft plaintive wails from Patricia. Lola hoped and expected Patricia to tire and stop her whines for help, and she was content to wait for that to happen. What gnawed at Lola’s patience now was the hour upon hour of nothing to do.

After the fourth hour with nothing to do, Lola struck on the idea of visiting her old friend, Mary. It seemed like a completely reasonable thing to do. She knew that Jeremiah would not return until after sunset, and she assumed the same was true for Tony. She reasoned that visiting Mary would also have a utilitarian benefit. Adorning her new figure with new clothes was much on Lola’s mind, and the television commercial advertisements about clothing added fuel to that thinking. After several minutes of considering the idea, Lola defiantly decided to go despite Jeremiah and Tony’s orders.

Lola called Mary’s home first to verify that she was at there. She told Mary that she was in New York and that she had something exciting to show and tell her. When Mary agreed to wait for her arrival, Lola ended the call and got up to leave. A second thought about Patricia slowed her departure, and she went into the basement to see how she was.

“Don’t leave me,” Patricia pleaded after hearing Lola’s plan to leave the house.

Lola promised to return before nightfall and made a fervent effort to assure her that all would be alright. After five minutes of promises and pleas, it became clear to Lola that nothing she said was going to ease Patricia’s fears. She suspected that much of Patricia’s dread was driven by her frail and wretched circumstance. The sight of the young girl chained, emaciated and crumpled on the floor gave Lola second thoughts about leaving, but she knew from her own experience that Patricia was going to be fine in the end. After a moment of thought, Lola concluded that a small amount of nourishment would not do any harm, and that it would likely give some uplift to Patricia’s spirit.

Before leaving the house, Lola placed a single raw steak and a glass of water on the floor in front of Patricia. She quickly drank the water and then began examining the unopened package of meat as though it was a curiosity. Lola nearly grinned when she noted Patricia’s bewilderment with the package of raw meat.

“Bon appetite,” Lola grinned before ascending the stairs and leaving the house.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~~_

The sun was minutes away from peeking up over the eastern horizon when Jeremiah entered the back door of the stash house with four plastic grocery bags filled with meat. Tony, Charlie, Malcolm and Keegan were seated about the storeroom seemingly awaiting his arrival. Jeremiah noted an absence of enthusiasm in the room. He quickly surmised that they all were tired of being cooped up together. Without further thought about the reason for the silence, Jeremiah went to the large cooler in a corner of the room and began storing the packets of meat inside it. When he finished doing that, he took out five packages of steaks and went around the room tossing them out one to a person. After dealing out four of the steaks he looked for Ben.

“Where’s Ben?” Jeremiah asked after listening intently to the silence within the interior of the building.

“That’s a good question,” Tony grumbled.

“He’s not here?” Jeremiah questioned with an inflection of surprise.

“He left the same night you did,” Keegan returned casually. “But he said he’d be back.”

“This is why you should have been here,” Tony angrily grumbled.

“You think something happened to him?” Jeremiah asked with a look of concern.

“We don’t know. We don’t know anything,” Tony responded with a mixture of sarcasm and anger.

“Has anyone tried calling him?” Jeremiah challenged everyone there. 

“His phone is off,” Malcolm somberly responded.

“That’s standard practice for Ben,” Charlie explained. “When he doesn’t want anyone to know where he is, he turns off his cellphone, but that’s good news. It means he’s moving around somewhere.”

“Or he’s hiding from us,” Malcolm speculated.

“Ben is not hiding from us,” Charlie dismissively responded. “He said he’ll be back. He’ll be back.”

Jeremiah looked to Tony with concern. He knew that Tony had big plans for Saturday night, and he knew a missing man had to be aggravating him greatly.

“Does this change anything?” Jeremiah asked with a stern look at Tony.

“So, now you’re concerned,” Tony angrily countered.

“You don’t think he’s talking to Grasso or somebody like that?” Jeremiah questioned with an undertone of dread.

“I don’t know what to think, do I?” Tony hollered with fury.

Jeremiah reacted to Tony’s rage by instantly taking a defiant stance. A lack of words prevented him from verbally responding, and he limited himself to seething from behind an angry stare. He was several seconds into his silent standoff with Tony when the sound of a car parking outside the building caught the attention of everyone there. Shortly after the engine shut down, they heard the car door open and close. Then footsteps resounded as they approached the rear door of the building. Everyone in the storage room got to their feet and stood facing the rear door. The footsteps stopped just outside the door before pounding started.

“Open up, it’s me,” the voice on the other side announced.

“That’s Ben,” Charlie declared as he hurried over to the door.

Charlie unlocked and opened the door without hesitation, and then Ben stepped through as brazenly as he dared. Several steps into the storage room, Ben stopped and faced Tony.

“Where have you been?” Tony queried in a commanding tone.

“Personal business,” Ben insolently returned.

“You don’t have any personal business when you work for me,” Tony gruffly insisted.

“But you and Jeremiah do?” Ben challenged defiantly. “What does that make us, your obedient dogs?”

A low audible grumbled could be heard emanating from within Tony’s chest as he took a step toward Ben. A similar grumble began to emanate from Ben in response, and he too took a step forward. Both their eyes were illuminated by the light reflecting off their retinas.

“I’m running a business here,” Tony growled out after a prolonged pause. “I need you here doing what I pay you to do and not out there exposing us—or worst—betraying us,” he finished with a sneer.

“So, if we’re just your employees, does that mean I can quit?” Ben returned with a heavy inflection of sarcasm.

Tony growled under his breath in response to the idea that Ben or Charlie or Malcolm or Keegan could just walk away from what they were doing. That was a scenario that Tony never considered until that moment. He quickly concluded that he was not likely to stop that from happening through physical means, and that he could end up with powerful new adversaries if they did.

“I don’t rat, and I’m no traitor,” Ben fiercely insisted after a pause and with a point. “I had family business, and it couldn’t wait,” he raged with finality.

Tony did not know how to respond to that. When he glanced around the room, he saw Charlie, Malcolm and Keegan staring at him with suspicion and indecision on their faces. He knew in that moment that he could not count on their support, and what he feared even more was that they would turn against him if Jeremiah fought by his side.

“You turned us,” Ben snarled with contempt. “That makes us more than your employees,” he spat out with insolence. “We are your associates, and we expect to be treated that way.”

The word, we, unsettled Tony more than anything he had heard or seen so far. He quickly concluded that it would not be wise to look to the others for help. The last thing he wanted to do at that moment was show weakness.

“Okay then,” Tony agreed after a moment of thought. “Associates,” he blandly conceded after a pause. “But no more unauthorized excursions. 

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

The sound of soft footsteps in the hall outside his condominium did not escape David’s vampire hearing. His notice of someone moving back and forth outside his door was helped by the fact that he was waiting for Cassidy to come over with the file she put together on Tony McGuire. Cassidy had told him that she would be coming over at some time in the morning, but she did not specify exactly when that would be. David had been waiting for Cassidy since his return home from the Cavern Nightclub at five o’clock that morning. It was now a little past seven in the morning. David thought it was much too early for Cassidy to be outside his condominium door. He was expecting her much later in the morning, but the repetitive sound of someone moving around outside his door finally became too much for David to ignore, so he went to see who it was.

Just before David got to the peep hole in the door, he detected Cassidy Tremaine’s distinctive aroma. The smell was faint, but unmistakable. David knew Cassidy’s scent above all other mortals. The fact that her scent was barely seeping through the seams in the doorway did not weaken its telltale signature. David was so sure that Cassidy was outside his door that he came to a sudden stop from the shock of knowing she was there.

David waited and listened as Cassidy alternated between standing and pacing outside his door. He considered opening the door and confronting her, but he suspected she was thinking about canceling their meet and leaving. He did not want to impose himself upon her if she truly wanted to keep her distance. When Cassidy finally made her decision and rang his doorbell, a sensation of relief washed over him, and he immediately snatched open the door.

Cassidy was astonished by the swift response to her ring. She gasped for air and then froze with shock at the sight of David suddenly standing in the doorway. For Cassidy, the rapid response was a surprise, but it was the thought of being alone with David that frightened her. Cassidy remembered the last time she was inside his condominium. She willingly stayed there in his home and his bed for two days and two nights. Cassidy knew that her resistance to restarting a sexual relationship with David was nothing more than a reluctance. She also knew the strength of her desire for David made that reluctance a tissue thin barrier.

For a few seconds David did nothing but examine the fear and astonishment in her expression. He knew from her gasp and hesitance to move or speak that she was his for the taking. After coming to that conclusion, he reached out and pulled Cassidy through the doorway. He threw the door shut then pulled Cassidy into his embrace. They immediately started kissing with all the passion they could produce. Cassidy dropped the envelope containing the file on Tony McGuire and wrapped both her arms around David. Moments later, David scooped Cassidy up into his arms and carried her off to his bedroom.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

It was 10:02am Saturday when David heard his doorbell ring for the second time that morning. Now that Cassidy was here, he was not expecting anyone else. His first thought was to ignore the bell. His hope was that it was a neighbor with nothing of importance to speak with him about. He was sure that his busy body neighbors were accustomed to him not answering his door during the day. When the doorbell rang for the fifth time, David decided to consider the idea that his second meeting had arrived early.

“I got to see who that is,” David _(Cristiãn)_ said while jumping out of his bed.

David _(Cristiãn)_ was in his bed with Cassidy. They had spent the past three hours together in that bed, but neither of them had devoted any time to sleeping. The moment David _(Cristiãn)_ was up on his feet, he began racing back into his clothes. His sudden haste caught Cassidy’s attention.

“Who is it?” Cassidy inquired with intrigue.

“I don’t know,” David _(Cristiãn)_ quickly returned without taking a pause in his dressing. “I mean, I’m not sure—well I know who it could be—but it shouldn’t be,” he fumbled out.

“Who is it?” Cassidy asked again with a more challenging tone.

David _(Cristiãn)_ paused and gave Cassidy an indecisive look. He was by this time loosely dressed in his pants and shirt. His belt was unfastened, his shirt was only partially buttoned, and his feet were bare.

“Stay here,” David _(Cristiãn)_ instructed after a pause. “I’ll be right back.”

After hurrying out of the room, David _(Cristiãn)_ raced to the front door. After stooping to pick up the large envelope that Cassidy had dropped to the floor three hours earlier, he stood up and looked through the peep hole.

“Open the door,” _Nadja_ ’s voice reverberated through the door after he looked through the peep hole.

David _(Cristiãn)_ was not surprised that _Nadja_ knew he was standing on the other side of the door. He expected no less from her elevated vampire senses. He was surprised to see her and _Petru_ at his door at this time of day, and he was slightly annoyed, as well. Despite his feelings, he pulled the door wide open.

“What are you doing here?” David _(Cristiãn)_ asked with exasperation.

“I told you I was coming for the files, _Cristiãn_ ,” _Nadja_ returned as she brazenly strode through the doorway.

“You said three,” David _(Cristiãn)_ countered as _Petru_ followed her through.

“Plans change,” _Nadja_ promptly replied as she walked into the living room and stopped.

_Petru_ followed _Nadja_ into the living room and on toward the sofa.

“Why is she here?” David _(Cristiãn)_ questioned _Petru_ with a look that said he wanted the truth.

_Petru_ stopped in front of the sofa to consider David’s _(Cristiãn)_ question and how best to respond.

“I think _Nadja_ wanted to surprise you,” _Petru_ carefully said. “Or maybe I should say she wanted to catch you by surprise,” he finished with a smile and while seating himself on the sofa.

As _Petru_ was speaking, _Nadja_ was sniffing the air in the room as though she had caught an unusual scent. _Petru_ ignored her and relaxed back into his seat. David _(Cristiãn)_ moved further into the living room and came to a stop near _Nadja_.

“Here’s the file,” David _(Cristiãn)_ declared as he extended the envelope toward _Nadja_.

_Nadja_ ignored David’s _(Cristiãn)_ offer and stepped toward the room’s center with her nose in the air.

“Wow, it smells like Cassidy was here for some time,” _Nadja_ mused. “We must have just missed her… unless…”

_Nadja_ turned toward David _(Cristiãn)_ and gave him an up and down look with a frown of curiosity and a sly smile.

“Is she still here, _Cristiãn_?” _Nadja_ asked with a mischievous smile on her face.

“Do you want the file or not?” David _(Cristiãn)_ challenged sternly.

“Detective, are you here?” _Nadja_ called softly while slowly moving toward the hallway to the bedrooms and with a suspicious look.

_Nadja_ stopped to take a deep sniff of the air coming from out of the hallway.

“Is that you I smell in there?” _Nadja_ queried with amusement in her voice. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she gently continued with a smirk.

David _(Cristiãn)_ gave his sister an annoyed look. He knew that she heard Cassidy moving around in his bedroom as easily as he. He also knew that _Nadja_ was determined to have her fun and that nothing he said was going to deter her. David _(Cristiãn)_ looked to _Petru_ with an expression of exasperation in the hope that he could exert some influence over _Nadja_. _Petru_ ’s offered a look of helplessness in response, and then he crossed his arms.

As Cassidy scrambled to dress herself in David’s _(Cristiãn)_ bedroom, she listened to as much of what was being said in the living room as she could. She knew as well as David _(Cristiãn)_ that _Nadja_ was not going to be dissuaded from having her fun. She took a moment to prepare herself for an encounter with _Nadja_ , then she strolled out of the bedroom and into the living-room with a scowl on her face.

“There she is,” _Nadja_ announced with a heavy inflection of pleasantry. “Aren’t we looking—radiant this morning.”

“Go to hell!” Cassidy muttered as she passed _Nadja_ and moved to the center of the room.

“Wow!” _Nadja_ exclaimed with a wide smile. “Somebody gets grouchy after sex—or else you’re doing it wrong, brother.”

“What are you doing moving around in the sunlight?” Cassidy hissed at _Nadja_.

“Oh, didn't _Cristiãn_ tell you we were coming by to collect the files, or were you too busy for talk?” _Nadja_ replied with a playful pout. 

“She said three o'clock,” David _(Cristiãn)_ assured Cassidy in his defense.

“My timetable got pushed around, _Cristiãn_ ,” _Nadja_ dismissively retorted with a look to David _(Cristiãn)_. “Bergdorf Goodman is having a sale. I just had to get there before the store closed. Besides, I knew you'd be awake and waiting for me. I just didn’t know Detective Tremaine would still be here.”

_Petru_ let out a chortle in response to _Nadja_ ’s last response.

_Nadja_ quickly turned her head to give her mate a playful look of admonishment. A moment later, she looked back toward David _(Cristiãn)_ with a smile. 

“And I didn't think you would mind if I came by a little early,” _Nadja_ finished with a lie.

_Nadja_ knew that all vampires preferred others to stick to schedules because of their deep sleep periods. It was her hope that she would catch David _(Cristiãn)_ and Cassidy together, but this interception was more than she expected and far more amusing than she had hoped.

“And you couldn’t wait until after your shopping spree to come by for the file?” Cassidy snidely questioned.

“Oh no,” _Nadja_ playfully mused while delicately sitting herself on the sofa next to _Petru_. “You see, _Sorin_ and _Adrianna_ are hosting a buffet this evening and _Petru_ and I are invited,” she finished with a sly smile.

“A buffet?” Cassidy queried with a confused look toward David _(Cristiãn)_.

“An orgy,” David _(Cristiãn)_ promptly explained without meeting Cassidy’s gaze.

“You’re going to feed on humans?” Cassidy asked with concern.

“Relax, nobody is going to die,” _Nadja_ deflected with a roll of her eyes.

“Are you going to tell them that you’re drinking their blood?” Cassidy tersely questioned.

“Of course not,” _Nadja_ responded as though she thought the question foolish. “And don’t worry, they won’t remember.”

“Yeah right,” Cassidy spoke as though she had just remembered something. “It’s easier to get us humans to forget things when they happen inside a pleasing experience,” she mused.

“Exactly,” _Petru_ confirmed with a hint of surprise in his voice. “Terrifying events leave deep psychological scars that don’t go away,” he qualified with a slight shake of his head.

“Well then, I guess that makes it okay,” Cassidy sarcastically returned while putting on her jacket and starting for the hallway that led to the door.

“Oh, are we going so soon?” _Nadja_ quickly asked before Cassidy could leave the room. “I hope it’s not because of something I said.”

Cassidy stopped to give _Nadja_ a cold stare, then she turned and continued to walk away. David _(Cristiãn)_ hesitated to give _Nadja_ an exasperated glance before hurrying after Cassidy. He stepped past her in the entrance hall and stood in front of her at the door. Cassidy came to a stop a step away from David _(Cristiãn)_ and primed herself for their farewells.

“I’m sorry,” David _(Cristiãn)_ spoke first. “I didn’t know she would come so soon.”

The hallway they were standing in doubled as a foyer for the condominium’s entrance. It was enclosed on three sides. From where they stood, they could not be seen from the living room. Speaking softly gave Cassidy the illusion of not being overheard.

“It’s hard for me to believe you two are brother and sister,” Cassidy spoke at a level just above a whisper.

Cassidy looked away to avoid David’s _(Cristiãn)_ gaze, and he looked straight at her hoping that she would look back.

“She’s just teasing,” David _(Cristiãn)_ softly assured. “You do know she likes you?”

“She tried to kill me,” Cassidy asserted with astonishment.

“No,” David _(Cristiãn)_ gently corrected. “She was trying to save me. There’s a difference.”

Cassidy was aware of that fact, but it provided no salve to the memory that _Nadja_ was the vampire that came closes to ending her life.

“Well, if this is the way she acts when she likes me,” Cassidy pouted after a dejected pause, “then I would hate to see her when she’s angry with me.”

“No,” David _(Cristiãn)_ agreed with a slight grin. “You don’t want to see her then.”

Cassidy returned his grin with a smile and a blush, and for the next few seconds a growing uncomfortable silence filled the space between them. Up until that moment, she and David _(Cristiãn)_ knew what to do because it was all physical. Their desire for each other required no words. The problem they were experiencing now was a feeling that they needed to define who they were to each other.

Cassidy was loathed to make any form of commitment to David _(Cristiãn)_ , and he had no intention of pushing for it. He knew that their continued association was problematic for Cassidy. He knew that the best thing he could do for her was step back and remain out of sight. But right now, while they stood inches apart, he could not stop himself from inching a little closer.

Cassidy was equally enamored by the moment and his proximity. She kept her gaze down to ward off the passion that was flush within her. Shortly into their silence, she looked up and met his eyes, and in that instant her resistance collapsed. Cassidy threw her arms around David’s neck and he threw his around her waist. An instant later they were entwined in an embrace. Their kissing was passionate, and their bodies were compressed as though they were trying to merge into one. For several seconds they gave deference to lust and desire, then Cassidy pushed away. Silence and labored breathing followed. When it became clear to her that nothing more was going to be said, Cassidy reached for the knob and opened the door.

“Good-bye,” Cassidy said as she quickly walked away.

As she walked away, David _(Cristiãn)_ gently closed the door behind her and then took a moment to recompose himself. When he went back to the living room, he sported the appearance of calm and placidity. _Nadja_ and _Petru_ watched from their seats on the sofa as he walked into the center of the room. _Petru_ appeared to be sorry for their disruption in his morning. _Nadja_ looked to be greatly amused.

“I hope I didn’t spoil your morning. Or were you done?” _Nadja_ spoke with a smile that said she was pleased with herself.

_Nadja_ had just finished speaking when a sudden sensation of lust washed over her. She knew from experience that it was the reciprocal psychotropic pheromones coming off her mate that was arousing her. She quickly glanced over to catch sight of _Petru_ breathing heavily which verified for her his arousal. _Nadja_ knew that she did nothing to stimulate _Petru_ ’s libido, and she was also doubtful that he excited himself in such a short time. It only took her a few seconds to concluded who was exciting her mate.

“And then again, maybe you weren’t done,” _Nadja_ smugly mused while turning her gaze toward David _(Cristiãn)_.

_Nadja_ had seen _Petru_ ’s and David’s _(Cristiãn)_ reciprocal psychotropic pheromones in action hundreds of times before. Because _Petru_ was the vampire who turned her brother, she knew that he was now more closely related to David _(Cristiãn)_ biologically than she was. She also understood that the reciprocal psychotropic pheromones between a vampire and his maker imbued them both with the ability to exchange feelings and thoughts whenever they were near or within an enclosed space that was not abnormally large. That capability was equally true between her and _Petru_ , but it did not exist between her and her brother. It is for these reasons that _Nadja_ suspected that David _(Cristiãn)_ was also in a state of sexual arousal.

“Now look at what you’ve done,” _Nadja_ teased as she climbed up and over _Petru_ and straddled his lap facing toward him. “You got _Petru_ all hot and bothered,” she asserted playfully. “Isn’t that right, baby,” she continued while nuzzling her face along _Petru_ ’s cheek. “You’re feeling enthused, aren’t you?”

A moment later, _Nadja_ began kissing her mate passionately, and he returned her ardor with equal enthusiasm. _Petru_ ’s hands quickly began caressing _Nadja_ ’s back and buttocks as though they were searching for the perfect position. _Nadja_ kept her hands grasped to _Petru_ ’s head as she rubbed up against him with the whole of her torso. Their kissing shortly began to spread to various locations of their necks, and then the moaning started. David _(Cristiãn)_ was shortly overwhelmed by the pheromones coming off _Petru_ and cringed from his ever-growing arousal that he had no convenient way of satisfying.

“Okay, okay!” David _(Cristiãn)_ shouted with disgust. “Bedroom—go—get out of here.”

Without further instructions, _Petru_ and _Nadja_ got up hand in hand and raced off to the guest bedroom.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” Mary Thistle exclaimed in rapid succession. “What—what happened—how? You look fantastic. My God, is it really you?” She finished with a mix of astonishment and disbelief in her voice.

“It’s the new me,” Lola bragged with a wide smile and while posing outside Mary’s front door.

“This can’t be true,” Mary continued to speak in an amazed tone. “You could pass for twenty-five.”

Lola’s spirit was buoyed even more by Mary’s observation. She gleefully twirled about laughing as she spun.

“Can I come in?” Lola asked after stopping to give her old friend another pose.

Too stunned to speak, Mary nodded in the affirmative. After noting Mary’s nod of approval Lola skipped through the doorway. Smiling and giggling as she went, Lola danced her way to the center of Mary’s living room. It was half past 10am Saturday.

“Is this a prank?” Mary challenged while following behind. “Are you some long-lost daughter that Lola never told me about.”

Mary had begun to doubt what she initially accepted. She was expecting Lola’s arrival. She had spoken to Lola earlier that morning on the telephone and was told that she was coming. Mary had no reason to be surprised by the sight of Lola at her front door. What was shocking to her was Lola’s exceptionally youthful appearance. Her first thought was that Lola had lost weight and had undergone some expensive facial reconditioning. It was this woman’s movements made her doubt herself. Mary could not reconcile the spritely dance of this woman with someone Lola’s age. Mary also had a concern about her clothing. A man’s suit was not clothing that Lola would normally choose to wear.

“It’s me, Mary,” Lola assured as she did a turnabout with her arms stretched out. “It’s really me.”

“I don’t understand,” Mary complained with a confused look. “What happened to you?”

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies,” Lola returned with a sly smile.

Mary knew from long experience with Lola that when she said those words, she did not want to speak anymore on the subject and likely would not if pressed. Mary also knew that Lola had difficulty keeping secrets, and that if this was truly Lola, she would likely spill the truth later during a casual conversation about something else. And if she was not Lola that, too would be exposed by what she did not know about her history. Mary elected to go with her story and wait for the truth of who this woman is to reveal itself in one way or another.

“Okay—Lola,” Mary greeted with a frown. “Please have a seat,” she offered with a gesture toward the sofa. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Water, please,” Lola requested as she continued to move about the room.

Lola was feeling too energized for sitting. The short walk from the bus stop in the morning sun did weather her a little, but her hunger, to a large extent, had not returned.

“Water, that’s a new one,” Mary suspiciously stated.

“Yeah,” Lola cheerfully agreed. “Do remember how I use to love to drink champagne in the morning? I’m a different person inside and out.”

Mary did remember Lola’s fondness for champagne at all hours of the day. The fact that this young woman knew of this proclivity was not enough to put down her concerns about her identity, but it was a strike in her favor.

“Speaking of different,” Lola quickly spoke before Mary could leave the room. “I need clothes. Do you have something that I can wear?”

“Is that Tony’s suit you’re wearing?” Mary questioned with surprise that it fit her so well.

“Jerry’s” Lola corrected. “Tony’s clothes were too big.”

“So, where are your clothes?” Mary asked with a frown reflecting her extreme interest in the subject.

“Dorchester,” Lola returned with a smile.

Lola knew where the conversation was going, and she had an eagerness to get there.

“So, Tony brought you here without any clothes?” Mary asked dubiously.

“He brought me here in the trunk of his car,” Lola stated melodramatically. “I thought I was going to die,” she finished with a mix of amazed and amused in her manner.

“He kidnapped you?” Mary questioned with shock.

“No—yes—no,” Lola fumbled out indecisively.

“Which is it?” Mary asked in a commanding tone.

“Well, I guess he did,” Lola mused. “But I’m glad he did,” she continued with smile. “He made me what I am,” she finished with a twirl.

“And what are you?” Mary asked with a confused look and a shrug of her shoulders.

Lola gave the question a moment of thought from behind a devious smile before answering with a giggle.

“I can’t tell you.”

Mary was angered by Lola’s reply and gave her a pout of irritation.

“Is this some kind of a game?” Mary asked angrily. “You can’t be Lola Keener. Lola Keener is older than I am. Who are you?”

Lola gave Mary’s strident query a large smile. She then began untucking her shirt on the left side.

“Salome, it’s me—Jezebel,” Lola softly declared while exposing an artistic tattoo and calligraph of the word Jezebel.

Mary was dazed by what she saw and heard. The tattoo was a perfect match for the one that she knew to be on Lola’s left pelvis. Even the name, Salome, was the nickname that Mary had tattooed onto her left pelvis more than twenty years ago. The tattoos were done to signify their sisterly bond. She and Lola had them ingrained on the same night by the same artist while they were intoxicated on drugs and alcohol.

“How is this real?” Mary asked with a bewildered shake of her head. “How did you do this?”

“It’s a secret for now,” Lola gently proclaimed as she stepped forward and took Mary’s hands into hers. “But I will tell you when I can. Okay?” 

Mary accepted Lola’s words with an amazed expression and followed that with a nod of her head a moment later.

“So, how about some clothes,” Lola suggested in an upbeat tone. “Do you have something I can wear instead of this?” She asked while stepping back to display herself.

Mary gave Lola a quick look over before answering.

“Yeah, I have clothes but nothing in your size,” Mary said with dismay. “I threw out or gave away all of my clothing from when I was skinny a few years back.”

“Don’t you have something that can be taken up?” Lola asked hopefully.

“I have something better,” Mary responded with an impish smile. “I have a credit card.”

“That’ll work,” Lola concurred with a smile. “And I will pay you back as soon as I have some money of my own. I promise,” she vigorously assured.

“Please, if you’re back with Tony, then I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Mary responded offhandedly.

Mary was sure of more than that. As Lola’s best friend when she and Tony were first together, she enjoyed significant financial benefits. She recalled Tony dispensing money like it was candy being doled out to children. Despite Lola’s displeasure with her first relationship with Tony, Mary had no doubts about things returning to the way things were. With the possible return to a surplus of money in her checking account as a motivator, Mary promptly changed her attire and drove Lola to the closest Nordstrom department store.

Mary and Lola were not planning to do a substantial amount of shopping. Their goal was to get a few outfits and necessities to sustain Lola until she could go shopping on Tony’s credit card. Once during their outing, a salesclerk inquired of Mary if Lola was her daughter. The question was immensely entertaining to Lola, but Mary was not so amused. The question hurt because they were the same age. Mary desperately wanted answers to Lola’s new look, but she concealed her curiosity knowing that badgering Lola would make her more resistant. Mary and Lola were in the store for just over an hour when they both concluded they brought their spree to a close. 

“Wait. Do you need a phone?” Mary inquired as they were passing a cellphone kiosk.

“Yeah,” Lola agreed after a moment of thought. “Just something I can use for personal calls—a prepaid phone is fine.”

Lola had just finished that statement when she noticed Mary giving her a curious look.

“What’s wrong?” Lola asked with a frown.

“You look different,” Mary explained as she continued to examine Lola’s face. “You look older.”

“I do?” Lola quickly queried back.

Lola turned and looked for a nearby mirror. When she got to a makeup mirror, Lola was quick to see the lines and discolorations that were just barely starting to show.

“Are you okay?” Mary asked with concern.

“Yeah,” Lola responded without hesitation. “I must be hungry,” she whispered to herself.

“We can stop at a restaurant on the way back home,” Mary offered with a perplexed expression.

“No,” Lola sharply returned. “That won’t be necessary. Let’s just get the cellphone and go.”

Lola’s reaction, more than her appearance, raised Mary’s suspicion that something was wrong with her longtime friend. Lola’s haste to leave the store seemed odd after her eagerness to get there. After purchasing the prepaid cellphone and entering the parking lot, Lola began walking with long strides and at a rapid pace. Mary hurried to match her pace so that she could inquire about her suspicion.

“So, is it food—some kind of new diet? Is that’s what’s behind this new look?” Mary inquired while struggling to keep up with Lola.

“Something like that—yes,” Lola confirmed while maintaining her pace.

Lola was panicked by the deterioration in her appearance. She had no idea how fast or slow the process would continue or what the result would be. In the time it took Lola to take three more steps, Mary had lost her patience.

“Hey, come on,” Mary pleaded while grabbing Lola’s arm and pulling her to a stop. “What’s going on with you?”

“It’s a secret,” Lola returned with a dejected shake of her head. “I can’t tell you.”

“Sure, you can,” Mary countered with insistence. “I can keep a secret. The Lola I know, knows that I can keep a secret.”

Lola went into a state of confusion. She wanted to tell Mary everything, but she felt governed by Tony’s warning against exposing what they were to outsiders. The problem with that instruction was the fact that it was not Lola’s practice to regard Mary as an outsider. She paused to give her close friend’s plea a thorough consideration.

“Come on, Lola, you know me,” Mary added after noting Lola’s deliberation.

“Okay, but you have to promise not to tell anyone,” Lola instructed sternly.

“I promise,” Mary returned without hesitation.

“Okay then, the secret is, I’m a vampire,” Lola declared delicately.

“Excuse me,” Mary returned after a momentary stunned silence. “You’re a what?”

“I’m a vampire,” Lola restated with assertiveness. “Tony turned me three days ago.”

For several seconds Mary did not know how to respond. She immediately relegated Lola’s claim into the realm of absurdity and began reconsidering the possibility that the woman she was speaking with was not Lola. Mary could not imagine her old friend trying to convince her that she was something as silly as a vampire.

“So, you’re saying Tony is a vampire too?” Mary asked after a few seconds of thought.

“Yes!” Lola confirmed with enthusiasm. “He said he was turned by a vampire who was over two-thousand years old.”

“Two-thousand years,” Mary dubiously parroted.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Lola questioned with a smile.

“There’s no such thing as vampires,” Mary asserted with finality.

“Okay, I guess I’ll have to prove it,” Lola verbally assessed as she stepped back to consider the problem.

Mary was intrigued by the challenge and crossed her arms as she waited on the presentation of that proof.

“Give me your knife,” Lola instructed after a moment of thought.

Mary gave Lola an incredulous look.

“Come on,” Lola disputed. “I know you have a knife. You always carry a knife.”

Mary considered the request a moment longer, and then she dug into her purse and pulled out a long thin folding knife. She hesitated to consider what she was doing before handing it over to Lola.

“Come on,” Lola instructed after looking about the parking lot for eyes and cameras that might be watching.

Mary followed Lola to the space between Mary’s car and the one next to it. When Lola turned back toward her while holding the knife, Mary was momentarily frightened. She had no idea what Lola was planning to do with the blade, and the thought that she might use it on her did cross her thinking.

“Okay,” Lola started to speak while pulling up the left sleeve of the suit coat and shirt she was still wearing. “I haven’t done this before, but Tony assures me it will work,” she continued after a deep breath.”

“What are you planning on doing?” Mary asked with a shocked expression.

Lola ignored the question, took a deep breath and then quickly made a long deep cut down her arm.

“Oh my God!” Mary nearly screamed at the sight of the blood profusely discharging out of the wound.

Mary quickly unlocked and opened the door to her car while repeating her ‘oh my Gods’ several times more. After a few seconds of digging in the car’s glove compartment, Mary pulled out a handful of tissues and quickly applied them to the large amount of blood covering Lola’s left forearm. Lola watched as Mary raced to attend to the wound. Shortly into her effort, Mary noticed Lola’s mixed expression of concern and intrigue.

“Come on, I need to get you to an emergency room,” Mary asserted after applying several seconds of pressure to the wound.

“Wait,” Lola returned while resisting Mary’s tug on her arm. “Look,” she encouraged while pushing Mary’s hand and tissue away from her arm. At first Mary was resistant to Lola’s effort to stop her from applying pressure to the wound, but she gradually gave way. She soon noticed that the bleeding was subsiding and began dabbing at the residue of blood to get a better look at the wound. A few seconds later, and much to her surprise, she saw the wound begin to mend on its own. In little more than thirty seconds after Lola cut open her arm, there was no wound or even a visible scar to suggest that there was ever a cut on her arm.

“It worked,” Lola exclaimed with a wide smile.

“Oh my God,” Mary huffed while staring wide-eyed at Lola’s arm.

A second later, Mary wiped away much of the remaining blood before reiterating her verbal response of choice.

“Oh my God!”

“Tony was right,” Lola cheerfully proclaimed. “I heal instantly. See?”

“How did you do that?” Mary asked while moving closer to examine Lola’s arm.

“I told you,” Lola answered with a mix of amusement and insistence. “I’m a vampire.”

Mary did not know how to react. The idea that Lola was a vampire was still difficult for her to accept, but the evidence was difficult to ignore. After a moment of thought, Mary shook her head in resignation.

“Okay. Okay,” Mary began with heavy reluctance. “I believe—I believe you’re something. How did this happen?”

“I told you, and you can’t tell anyone. You promised,” Lola stated with excitement in her voice.

“Yeah, okay,” an amazed Mary agreed.

It took Mary more than a few minutes to get over her astonishment, and then she and Lola got into the car and drove out of the Nordstrom’s parking lot.

“Can you drive me back to Jerry’s?” Lola asked hopefully.

Lola knew she was gradually diminishing physically, and that sleep and food were the only things that would restore her youth. She started examining her hands and arms to measure how much older she was growing.

“Why not come back to my place?” Mary quickly queried. “You can shower and dress into your new clothes, and I’m sure my vanity set will be more to your liking then Jerry’s.”

“I don’t know,” Lola mused. “I was warned not to spend too much time moving about during the day.”

“You’re fine,” Mary quickly assured. “And besides, all you need is something to eat and you’ll be good as new.”

Mary’s argument made sense to Lola, and it only took her a moment of to relent. She did not consider that Mary might have an ulterior motive, and that was mostly because she did not care. Lola was happy to spend time with her oldest and closest friend. Mary was equally pleased to spend time with Lola, but she was also considering a whole new benefit to their association.

When they got back to the house, Lola did as Mary suggested. She showered and dressed in one of the three outfits that Mary purchased for her. She then sat at Mary’s vanity table and began making use of the lotions and makeups there.

“What’s it like being a vampire?” Mary queried from her seat on the bed.

“It’s amazing,” Lola began to gush. “I feel better now than I ever did. Everything is so much better. It’s like my senses have discovered a whole new world beneath the one I use to know. Sounds, smells, tastes are so much more vivid and sharp—sometimes too sharp—like bright light and some smells. But it’s all so amazing and extreme.”

“What do you mean by extreme?” Mary asked with a curiosity frown.

“It’s just that everything feels so much better than they did before,” Lola explained with a shrug. “It’s like living on bread and water all my life and then suddenly feasting on French cuisine.”

Mary took in Lola’s analogy, and then turned her thoughts toward another subject.

“And how are things with you and Tony?” Mary inquisitively asked.

“Different—and the same,” Lola returned offhandedly. “We haven’t been fighting, but I’m sure that’ll come later.”

“So, you’re not going to stay with him?” Mary questioned with a hint of concern in her expression.

“Apparently, I don’t have a choice,” Lola grudgingly acknowledged while carefully attending to her left eyelash.

“Why? Because you’re a vampire?” An intrigued Mary quickly asked.

“I’m told that because he’s my maker, I’m connected to him,” Lola explained while switching her attention to her right eyelash.

It was clear by the change in Mary’s posture that she was intrigued by Lola’s answers, and she leaned forward to ask her next question.

“Connected how?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, he’s still—Tony,” Lola stopped applying eyelash thickener to verbalize her answer with disgust. “But there’s something different going on.”

“Different how?” Mary challenged without hesitation.

“Well, you know Tony was never—the man of my dreams,” Lola sighed. “Hell, the only reason I slept with him was because I wasn’t allowed to have sex with anyone else while we were together.”

“As I recall, you broke that rule a couple of times,” Mary countered with a hint of humor in her tone.

“More than that, especially toward the end,” Lola confirmed with a glance and a smile toward Mary. “But the thing is, last night Tony rung my bell like it had never been rung before,” she continued with a look of astonishment. “We went at it for hours. I couldn’t get enough of him.”

“What? You’re saying you’ve got the hots for Tony now?” Mary questioned with surprise.

“No!” Lola sharply responded. “I’m still not attracted to him—physically—at least, when I’m away from him, I don’t feel any attraction,” she hesitantly explained. “But I think when we’re close, he’s arousing me sexually somehow,” she explained with a grimace of disgust and a shiver. “I’m talking seriously horny. Who I was fucking last night was completely irrelevant. That’s how horny I was.”

“You’re kidding?” Mary giggled.

“Yeah,” Lola stressed. “And it goes beyond sex. I think I can sense his feelings and maybe even his thoughts.”

Mary mused over Lola’s observation before continuing with her thoughts on the subject.

“Well, that doesn’t sound like a bad thing—I mean, if he’s ringing your bell,” Mary pondered. “Some people would say that’s a good deal.”

“Well, I’m not sure I’m one of those people,” Lola sullenly countered while adding eyeliner.

Mary paused to second guess her next words.

“I am,” Mary softly declared.

Lola heard the subtext in Mary’s response loud and clear. She turned to give Mary a concerned look. She knew Mary was talking about becoming a vampire also. Lola had passively considered the thought since her decision to visit her friend.

“Tony wouldn’t like that,” Lola warned after a pause.

“So, we don’t tell him,” Mary countered with defiance.

“I just think we should do this another time,” Lola pushed back. “Tony is up to something, and I don’t think he’s going to like me doing things without his permission.”

“That’s just it, Lola,” Mary countered with exasperation. “Why should it be Tony’s decision. You know he doesn’t trust anyone when it comes to his secrets. I’m your best friend. We’re like sisters. Are you going to let Tony decide to cut me out because he has no use for me? You know the game, babe. It’s me and you versus the men. We do what we want, and we apologize for it later.”

Lola gave no response. She paused to consider Mary’s request. The argument against waiting on Tony’s permission made sense to her, and it was an argument that she had already considered. She knew what was really holding her back was the act itself. Lola knew that she was brazen enough to do it without Tony’s consent. The fact that she only had a peripheral knowledge of the procedure for turning someone into a vampire was the thing that made her hesitant. Attempting to turn Mary into a vampire on her own and without supervision was the fear that stopped her from making the offer.

“Babe,” Mary continued after a moment of silence. “I had a health scare—cancer. It was a couple of years ago and they got it in time. They cut it out, but you know how it goes. Once you get it, it’s just a matter of time before you get it again.”

“I only know what Tony told me in passing about turning someone,” Lola declared in a warning tone. “I wasn’t given any training on how to do it.”

“That’s fine,” Mary countered with a quick retort. “Lola, I trust you. Please, do this for me. I want to be young again. Please.”

Lola’s resistance fell away after Mary’s last plea. She knew that telling Mary that she was a vampire had stripped away much of her resistance to turning her. Lola knew that making Mary a vampire was what she wanted to do from the beginning. She could not imagine being young and on the prowl again without her dearest friend by her side.

It took Lola the lesser part of an hour to complete her portion of the transition process, but it was more than three hours later when she left the house. Concern and worry over what she had done had her anxious to see Mary awaken from the death sleep that she put her in. When Lola left Mary, she was lying still in her bed with no measurable heartbeat. Lola was forewarned that a corpse is what she should see, but that did not ease her concern. She would have gladly stayed at Mary’s bedside to wait out the process, but night was approaching, and Lola knew that Tony and Jeremiah would be calling soon. As she made her walk toward the nearest major street, Lola could only hope that Mary’s body was going through the human to vampire transformation.


	19. Patricia Unbound

It was after 5pm Saturday when Patricia began to feel restless about the chains that bound her. The steak that she had eaten earlier satiated her hunger to a small degree, but the effect was temporary. The full extent of her hunger was starting to return, and it was that sensation that had her eager to escape the chains. After several attempts to slip her left foot out of the noose, Patricia flopped back down on the floor in resignation. She laid there fuming with frustration for more than a minute. Suddenly, Patricia grabbed the span of chain between her and the basement support pole with both hands and began to pull out of pure rage. When her footing began to slip, she closed the distance between her and the pole, braced her feet against the stanchion and began to push with her legs while pulling with her arms. After several seconds of effort, a link in the chain began to bend open. Patricia was shocked by the sight of the loop spreading apart and paused to verify that metal was really bending. She then went back to pushing and pulling with a new determination. Shortly into this new effort, the link split wide open and the chain came apart into two pieces.

Driven by hunger, Patricia raced up the basement stairs with a portion of the chain still attached to her left leg and clanging against the steps behind her. When she got to the top of the stairs, Patricia found herself in the kitchen. Instinctively, she went to the refrigerator, threw open the door and began feasting on the stock of raw meat she found inside using just her hands and teeth. It took Patricia a little more than forty minutes to satiate her hunger consuming three steaks and half a pitcher of water. As Patricia gorged herself, her gaunt appearance began to transform into a healthier looking physique.

With her drive to feed gone, Patricia’s curiosity took over. She was casually examining her location and situation, when she spotted keys hanging from the wall by the basement door. She suspected one of them would be a fit for the padlock that was holding the chain around her ankle. With her first try she found the right key. After removing the lock and chain, Patricia fled the house at half past 6pm, Saturday, and began her journey home.

When Patricia left Jerry’s house, she was feeling exhilarated and full of energy. She gave no thought to the fact that she did not know where her purse was and that she had no money. Despite her situation, Patricia began her long walk home without regard for distance or the sun overhead. Her strides were long and fast, and her spirit was high. When she arrived at her apartment complex it was 8:12pm, the sun had set, and she was exhausted.

“Holy shit, where have you been,” Sandra Moore yelled at first sight of Patricia.

“I don’t know,” Patricia complained as she slowly walked through the doorway of their apartment. “Some asshole had me chained to a pole in his basement,” she continued while ambling into the center of the apartment.

Sandra stood back and looked over Patricia’s haggard appearance as she passed. Sandra closed the door and hurried after her with a pained and worried expression.

Sandra Moore was Patricia’s roommate and friend. They shared a two-bedroom, one bathroom, third floor walkup apartment. They were both native New Yorkers who moved in together to escape the cramp homes they shared with siblings and to free themselves from their parent’s dominion. Their friendship was not a long one. They met as employees of a fast food restaurant as teenagers. Their shared interest in music, tattoos, clothes and boys were the bonds that maintained their friendship.

“Oh no,” Sandra exclaimed while racing in front of Patricia.

Sandra seized Patricia by the arm before she could go into her bedroom.

“Did he do anything to you?” Sandra asked with worry.

“Nah, he wanted to, but I got away from that pervert,” Patricia spat out with disgust.

“Oh, baby,” Sandra cried as she threw her arms around Patricia and gave her a hug. “We were so scared. We’ve been looking all over for you.”

Patricia endured Sandra’s hug with indifference. Her thoughts were directed at getting out of her clothes, taking a shower and going to bed. Sandra was a couple of seconds into her hug when Patricia noticed an aroma that excited her senses. She suddenly pushed back from Sandra, held her by the shoulders and then leaned in toward her roommate and took a sniff.

“You smell good,” Patricia whispered.

“Do I?” Sandra responded with a confused look at her roommate. “I'm not wearing anything,” she continued.

“You smell like food,” Patricia countered after another sniff.

“What?” Sandra queried with a look of astonishment. “Are you okay, Pat?”

Sandra quickly put her hand to Patricia’s forehead to check her temperature. Patricia exploited this act to continue savoring the smell of her roommate.

“Oh, you do feel warm,” Sandra announced in a voice laced with surprise. “Maybe—maybe you should take a Tylenol,” she continued.

“No,” Patricia sharply countered while taking a step back. “I just need to get out of these clothes and take a shower,” she insisted.

“Yeah,” Sandra agreed with a startled bob of her head while Patricia was turning away. “You do that. I’m going to make some calls and let everyone know you’re okay.”

Patricia ignored Sandra and went off to take her shower. After 20 minutes, she emerged refreshed in a bath robe and with towel around her hair.

“Are you Patricia Boyd,” one of two large, uniformed police officers gruffly asked as Patricia stepped out of the hallway leading to the bedrooms and bathroom.

Patricia stopped dabbing at her hair and looked up at the police officers in astonishment. For a couple of seconds, she did not know what to say. The last thing she expected and the first thing she did not want to see were police officers standing in her apartment. Instinctively, Patricia feared the police. She remembered the conversations Jeremiah, Lola and that other guy had in the basement. She believed the police would turn on her. Patricia was dubious of Jeremiah’s claim that she had been changed into a vampire, but she had no doubt that something was different within her.

“Miss, are you Patricia Boyd?” The First Police Officer asked again in a stronger voice.

“What’s going on?” Patricia challenged in a shocked voice.

“They’re here about the kidnapping,” Sandra quickly explained.

“Miss,” the First Police Officer barked again.

“Yes, yes,” Patricia quickly answered. “I’m Patricia Boyd, but there was no kidnapping.”

Sandra was astounded by Patricia’s statement, but the two police officers were unfazed.

“You’ve been reported missing, and no one has seen you at home or your job for three days and three nights. Where were you?” The First Police Officer challenged.

“I was out—partying,” Patricia answered on the fly. “Time got away from me. I was having too much fun.”

“Why didn’t you call?” The Second Police Officer asked.

“I lost my phone,” Patricia quickly returned. “Look, I was wasted, okay?” She continued with a frivolous shrug. “There was no kidnapping.”

“So, this story about a man chaining you to a pole in his basement is a lie?” The First Police Officer challenged from behind a scrupulous stare.

“Hey, if some guy had me chained to a pole in a basement, would I be here now?” Patricia returned dismissively.

The two police officers looked at each other with exasperation, and then turned back to Patricia.

“Next time find some way to call someone,” the First Police Officer lectured. “We take false reports seriously,” he finished with a glance toward Sandra.

Sandra was in a state of shock as she showed the officers to the door. She returned to Patricia in confusion and anger.

“What? You were lying?” Sandra loudly challenged as she stormed back into the center of the living room.

Patricia showed no sign that she was perturbed by her roommate’s angry outburst.

“Get over it,” Patricia returned with a placid expression.

Patricia then turned and walked away as Sandra hurled appellations of bitch, cunt and more at her back. When she got to her bedroom, Patricia went inside and closed the door behind her, but she did not go to sleep. For the next several hours, Patricia listened to music, smoked up all her marijuana and danced around her room at irregular intervals. Sleep was the last thing she wanted to do. It was approaching 2am, Saturday Night, when Patricia’s revelry was disrupted by the sound of knocking on her bedroom door. She quickly opened it.

“Toby!” Patricia cheerfully exclaimed just before reaching out and pulling him into a passionate kiss.

Toby Kennedy was Patricia’s boyfriend of choice for the past five months. He was a tall, lean, long-haired tattooed guitarist who worked full time as a stockman in a warehouse. Despite his unsuccessful pursuit at being a professional guitarist, Toby was Patricia’s rock star boyfriend.

“Come in,” Patricia gleefully encouraged while pulling on Toby’s arm.

Toby’s expression was a mixture of surprise and confusion. At this moment, he did not know what to say. Patricia’s cheerful disposition was the opposite of what he was expecting at that moment. When he was through the door, Patricia slammed it shut and quickly went back to kissing him. Several seconds later, Toby pushed Patricia back, grabbed her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s distance.

“What happened to you?” Toby demanded.

“Nothing, baby, I’m fine,” Patricia declared dismissively and with a wide smile. “Hey, you got some grass on you?” She continued with a giggle while pushing against his restraining arms. 

Toby’s thinking immediately went to the possibility that Patricia was already high on something, and in this he was not wrong. It was the mixture of marijuana and her new vampire senses that had her giddy. It was also her vampire biology that was dissipating the effect quickly, making her crave for more.

“Hold on,” Toby commanded while keeping Patricia at a distance. “Where have you been?” He asked in a stern voice.

“What does it matter?” Patricia countered with a smile. “I’m back, and I’m happy to see you,” she continued while trying to get closer.

“Well, what is this I’m hearing about some man chaining you to a pole in his basement?” Toby queried back in a gruff voice while giving Patricia a violent shake to emphasize his determination to get an answer.

Patricia took an immediate offense at being physically manhandled. With a quick and powerful upward thrust of her arms, she dislodged Toby’s grip from her shoulders.

“He’s nobody,” Patricia angrily declared with a step back and a scowl. “He’s a regular at the restaurant. Some little nobody who was dreaming about me.”

“Then why did you tell the police it was a lie?” Toby hollered back.

“Relax,” Patricia encouraged dismissively. “He’s nobody.”

“Or is it that you’re lying to me?” Toby asked accusingly.

Toby stepped forward and leaned in with his head and shoulders. His face was fixed into a grimace of outrage. Patricia inched back in response to his anger.

“I told you, he’s a nobody,” Patricia insisted with defiance.

“Bullshit,” Toby vehemently returned, pointing his finger in Patricia’s face. “You were out screwing someone else, and you made up this lie thinking I would believe it,” Toby roared.

“I told you,” Patricia countered with more defiance. “He’s just some loser that comes to the diner.”

Before she could finish her statement, Toby slapped her across the face with the back of his hand. Physically, Patricia was barely fazed by the slap. Other than a turn of her head in the direction of the blow, her body did not move, but her eyes turned into pools of light. Her expression instantly turned into a mask of death. Within the span of two seconds, Patricia reached out, grabbed Toby by the throat, lifted him off the floor and tossed him over the bed and across the room. Toby landed with a thump on the floor in the far corner furthest from Patricia. His face was an expression of shock and disbelief. His attention was so fixed on Patricia’s expression of rage, that he barely noticed the tiny pools of light in her eyes. After he hit the floor, Patricia reached down, grabbed the bed and threw it over on its side to clear a straight path between her and Toby. In the time it took him to get back on his feet, Patricia closed the distance between them, grabbed him by the neck once again and threw him up against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Toby was physically intact and mostly alert when he fell to floor next to the bedroom door. Without hesitation, he jumped to his feet, opened the door and fled from the room. Through her light reflecting eyes Patricia watched him run away while heaving out her rage in long deep breathes. Several seconds later, she went to the open door and saw Sandra standing at the end of the hallway looking back at her. The pools of light in Patricia’s eyes had Sandra transfixed with amazement. Patricia returned her gaze for a moment and then slammed the door shut.

It took Patricia a few minutes to calm down to stop her pacing. When she was settled enough to breath normally again, she went to work arranging her bedroom back into a usable configuration. No effort was made to situate the mattress back into the frame. When the mattresses were lying one atop the other on the floor, she flopped down onto them and fell into a deep sleep.


	20. Who's the Boss

“Is there anything you want to tell me before this deal goes down?” Tommie asked with a sinister gaze.

“Hey, I’m just the facilitator,” Mickey returned with a shrug. “This is McGuire’s deal. That’s all I know.”

Mickey Nevers was standing inside the storage room of the Turf Discount Carpet Warehouse and Store when he made that declaration. The time was 9:57pm, Saturday night, and the store and warehouse had been closed since 6pm that evening. The building was located in Brooklyn, and was owned by Tommie Grasso, the man standing next to Mickey Nevers. Also, in the warehouse was Tommie Grasso’s entourage of seven arm thugs. They were waiting for Tony McGuire and his entourage to arrive.

Tommie Grasso was a 38-year-old entrepreneur, gambler and career criminal. His inclination toward theft and violence was inherited from his father and grandfather, who both spent a good third of their lives in prisons. Tommie had the distinction of never being convicted of anything. He owed his successful navigation through the criminal world to his entrepreneurial instincts. Unlike his father and grandfather, Tommie Grasso did not limit his aspiration to being a thief and a thug. By this time in his life, Tommie owned a restaurant, a discount carpet store and a limousine company. Much of the startup money for his businesses was accrued from his criminal enterprises, drug trafficking, money laundering and illegal gambling. His success in these pursuits was mostly due to his low profile and his influential friends. Tommie believed in the axiom that you must spend money to make money, and he made it his business to keep the right people on the payroll. It was because of the latter that he accepted the meeting with Tony McGuire.

Tommie did not want to get into a splashy and bloody confrontation with Tony McGuire. He preferred to whisper McGuire’s name in the right person’s ear and let the New York City legal system put him out of business. His concern with that process was that it was not dependable. The toll for whispering in the right person’s ear was invariably expensive, and the price had the potential of going higher if a bidding war broke out between him and Tony McGuire. It was for these reasons that Tommie was willing to entertain Tony McGuire’s business proposal. If there was a way to make money with McGuire rather than loose it, then Tommie wanted to hear it. A mutually beneficial financial transaction was better for business.

Working at avoiding a fight with Tony McGuire had its limit with Tommie Grasso. He was not averse to violent acts, and there was more than one corpse that had passed through the county morgue that he had personally put there. But business was business with Tommie, and he was always prepared to do business. His presence in the storage room of his carpeting store was evidence of his willingness to deal, and the seven-armed gunman who were there with him was evidence of his willingness to kill if necessary. Tommie was aware of the possibility that the meeting could get violent, and he was amply prepared to prevail if it did.

At 10:01p.m., Saturday night, Tony, Charlie Ben, Malcolm and Keegan were led through the back entrance of Tommie’s Turf Discount Carpet Warehouse and Store. With five duffel bags, Tony and his boys were led to the center of the storage room where they found Tommie facing them from behind a worktable. Tommie was flanked on either side by seven of his trusted and well-armed thugs: two immediately by his side with the other five fanned out away from the worktable. Mickey was also on Tony’s right, but he promptly took a half-step back assuming the part of a passive observer. No one was checked for weapons as the agreement was that both sides would be armed to negate the possibility of either side attempting to exploit the situation. Tommie assumed a gunfight in such close quarters would be mutually destructive to both sides. Tony’s thinking went to the opposite direction; the closer the better.

“Is that the stuff?” Tommie flatly asked.

“Where’s the money?” Tony asked with equal directness.

Tommie glanced at the armed thug to his right, who reciprocated by reaching down and to his left. The armed thug came back up with a large gym bag and set it on the table. The bag was clearly stuffed with something. The armed thug promptly unzipped the gym bag and exposing dozens of rubber band wads of paper money. The armed gunman held the opening wide and tilted the bag up so that Tony could get a good look.

“I am here to do business,” Tommie pleasantly advised. “BUT,” he spoke with emphasis. “Since I am doing you a favor, I think a 60% mark down from the purchase price is the correct figure,” he added with a stern nod of his head. “And that’s non-negotiable.”

Tony maintained a prolong smile behind Tommie’s declaration.

“So, no haggling?” Tony asked with a shake of his head.

“The way I see it,” Tommie began with indifference. “You can take my deal, or you can take your stuff out of the county and sell it. But understand this,” he continued with a hard edge to his words. “You’re not selling it here.”

“Wow, those are hard terms—Tommie,” Tony blandly returned.

Tony went silent after making that statement. He gently smiled and nodded as though considering Tommie’s offer.

“So,” Tommie spoke up. “Which will it be, the money or the walk?”

Several of Tommie’s thugs snickered briefly. Tony looked about the room at Tommie’s array of smiling thugs.

“You see,” Tony began. “I do have a counter—but it’s not really an offer,” he continued hesitantly. “It’s more of a counter plan.”

After hearing Tony’s words, Charlie, Ben, Malcolm and Keegan produced their own smiles and snickers. Tommie and his thugs noticed their reactions with suspicion. Tommie’s concerns deepened when he saw Mickey cautiously move a couple steps back.

“I haven’t been completely honest here,” Tony continued with a smile. “The duffel bags are filled with dirt,” he said as though it was no big deal. “I never had any intention of selling you anything. I’m here to resolve a problem.”

Tommie’s suspicions went into high alert as did the suspicions of his team of thugs. They all began looking about with anxious expressions. Tommie looked to Mickey and watched him take another step back.

“And exactly what is the problem?” Tommie asked with a stern look toward Tony.

Tony gave Tommie a wide smile before speaking with a coldness in his voice.

“My problem is this, New York isn’t big enough for the two of us.”

Tommie held a blank stare as he waited for the other shoe to drop. His seven-armed thugs maintained similar postures while intermittently peeking at him out the corner of their eyes. Seconds into the standoff, Tony’s smile fell away as he suddenly reached for something under his coat. His sudden movement had Tommie startled and confused. He hesitated for an instant out of disbelief that Tony McGuire was stupid enough to start a gunfight there. He had to know that even if he survived the battle, he was sure to suffer serious injuries.

“Gun!” The thug to Tommie’s immediate right yelled at the sight of Tony and company reaching for weapons beneath their coats and jackets.

Instantly, Tommie and his thugs reached for their concealed weapons, and Mickey Nevers dove for a hiding place behind a stack of spooled carpets. In a matter of a seconds, the space within the storage room was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire along with the resulting bright flashes that coincided with each report. More than a dozen gunshots went off within the first three seconds. Tommie and Tony were struck by gunfire within that time. After a few seconds more, Charlie, Ben, Malcolm and Keegan were reeling from bullet strikes. Tony and his group struggled to stay on their feet against the barrage of projectiles. Charlie and Malcolm were knocked to the floor. They quickly got up and returned to the fight without loss of speed or accuracy. Tommie and his thugs were suffering the same fate, but they were proving to be far less durable. Their larger number was their only advantage, but the superior speed, aim and durability of Tony and company nullified their opponent’s numerical superiority. In the beginning, Tommie Grasso’s thugs went down with equal frequency, but they never returned to the fight with the same ferocity, if they returned at all. In the span of twenty seconds, the shooting began and ended. Tony and company were tattered but still standing. Tommie Grasso and his seven thugs lay dead or dying.

When the shooting stopped, the silence that followed was shocking by comparison. The smell of burnt gunpowder was everywhere, and a thin layer of smoke could be seen wafting through the air just below the overhead lights.

“Aaaah!” Tony loudly roared while throwing his arms out wide.

Charlie, Ben, Malcolm and Keegan immediately followed Tony’s lead and roared toward the ceiling as loudly as they could. Tony and company paused to examine the destruction they had inflicted while their bodies steamed from adrenaline fueled heat. Their breathing was deep and labored; their eyes were tiny pools of light, and their teeth showed the beginnings of fangs. While this was happening, Mickey Nevers peaked over the top of his hiding place.

“That one’s alive,” Malcolm cried out while racing over to one of Tommie Grasso’s thugs.

After tossing aside his gun, Malcolm descended upon the supine body on the floor, bit into his neck and began to feed on his blood. Keegan was a step behind; he pounced upon the thug right arm and viciously bit into it. Charlie and Ben looked about for survivors and shortly found another Tommie Grasso thug who was still breathing while coughing up blood. They descended upon him savagely. Tony went to Grasso and took a moment to note the faint beat of his heart. He dropped to the floor, bit into Tommie Grasso’s neck and began to feed on the blood that had yet to spill out of his wounds. Several seconds later, the pulse of all three casualties had stopped. Charlie and Ben hastily looked for another to feed on and soon found Mickey Nevers.

“Hey, look what I got,” Charlie called out as he grabbed Mickey by the top front of his jacket and pulled him up from his hiding place.

“I didn’t see nothing,” Mickey pleaded with a look of wide-eyed terror.

“Sure, you did, Mickey boy,” Charlie chuckled out with a wide smile. “You saw everything.” 

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise,” Mickey whimpered in panic.

“Do you believe him?” Charlie asked Ben with an amused look his direction.

“Oh, I think we can trust Mickey to keep his mouth shut as long as that’s what it takes to stay alive. Isn’t that right, Mickey?” Ben asked with a wide smile.

“Yeah, sure, I’m with you guys all the way,” Mickey eagerly assured with a quick nod of his head.

Charlie released the top of Mickey’s jacket and began smoothing it out for him.

“Good,” Charlie responded with a smile.

Mickey did not notice the smile. For several seconds he could do nothing but gawk at the fangs in Charlie’s mouth and the glint of light coming off his eyes. 

“What are you looking at?” Charlie asked through a constrained grin.

At first, Mickey was hesitant to speak. He was afraid to acknowledge what he was seeing. A moment later, when Charlie leaned in to pressure him for a response, Mickey relented.

“What are you?” A terrorized Mickey Nevers asked.

“We’re the top of the food chain,” Charlie answered with a fiendish smile. “Do you want to join?”

“No!” Mickey bawled with fear.

“Sure, you do,” Charlie countered while grabbing Mickey’s head between his hands.

“No, no, no I don’t,” Mickey quickly cried out.

Charlie gave no thought to Mickey’s plea. He twisted Mickey’s head to one side as he bared his fangs for the bite to come. He was an instant away from sinking his teeth into Mickey’s neck when Tony stopped him.

“Not now,” Tony yelled. “We need him awake and alert.”

Charlie pushed Mickey away before giving him a point and a smile.

“Another time, Mickey boy,” Charlie apprised with a smile and a nod.

Charlie turned away to retrieve his gun. As he left, Tony walked over to Mickey and stopped just a foot away.

“Take a look, Mickey. This is who we are,” Tony instructed as he looked around the room. “We’re the big dogs, and this is what happens to anyone who gets in our way,” he continued with a smug stare. “We’re going to own New York. We’re going to own the cops. We’re going to own the politicians, and we’re going to own the gangs. We have no competitors. Nobody is big enough to fuck with us,” he added just before diverting his gaze into the space between him and Mickey.

A thought suddenly popped into Tony’s mind, and he paused to consider it.

“Maybe the others,” Tony mumbled out mostly to himself.

“The others?” Mickey asked with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

“The other vampires,” Tony returned indifferently.

“Vampires?” Mickey trembled out the one-word question.

“Yes,” Tony affirmed with a wide-eyed look of glee. “That’s what we are.”

“And there’s more of you?” Mickey hesitantly queried.

“Evan Pritchard, the vampire who turned me said there was nineteen of them, but I think there’s only seventeen now,” Tony spoke ponderously. “I think Christian killed Evan and Christine,” he mused out loud. “I think if Evan was still alive, I would have heard from him by now.”

Mickey struggled to make sense of what Tony was saying. Between Tony’s mumbling to himself and Mickey’s fear for his own wellbeing, his brain struggled to follow Tony’s train of thought. After considering Tony’s last remark, Mickey timidly asked the question that came to his mind.

“Is—is Christian a vampire too?”

“Yes,” Tony lingered on his one-word reply. “But it doesn’t matter,” he continued with a sudden swell of confidence. “Soon we will be more powerful than him and his gang. No one will be able to stop us.”

Mickey nodded in agreement hoping to satisfy Tony’s intense stare.

“Put the word out, Grasso is dead,” Tony sternly instructed Mickey with a sudden thrust of his finger in Mickey’s face. “Tell Grasso’s dealers there’s a new supplier in town and if they want to push cocaine in New York then they must do business with me. Tell them if they’re not buying from me, then they’re asking for trouble. You understand?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, Mr. McGuire,” Mickey eagerly affirmed.

“And if you use my name and this event in the same sentence, “Tony began with a gesture to the bodies lying on the floor, “or if you tell anyone you were here when this went down, or if you so much as speak the word vampire, I’ll kill you. You got that?”

“Yeah, Mr. McGuire,” Mickey confirmed with a frightened nod of his head.

“Okay then, get out of here,” Tony instructed with a gesture of his head.

Mickey needed no further encouragement and quickly left the warehouse and store. Seconds after Mickey was out the door, Ben, Keegan and Malcolm began pulling five-gallon gasoline containers out of the duffel bags and began pouring their contents around the room and onto the bodies. As they were doing that, Tony and Charlie sought out the fire sprinkler shut off valve and turned it off. Less than five minutes later, Tony, Charlie, Ben, Malcolm and Keegan were coming out the back door of the Turf Discount Carpet Warehouse and Store and its storage room was ablaze.


	21. Newborn Problems

“Oh no,” Lola cried when she saw the empty meat packets strewn over the kitchen floor.

After a quick look around the kitchen, Lola raced down to the basement. She stopped at the foot of the stairs with a shocked expression. Patricia was nowhere to be seen, and the chain that had been holding her captive was broken. It was clear to Lola that Patricia had escaped, and it was equally apparent that she provided the means for that to happen. It was the latter thought that worried her the most. She had no idea how Tony would react when he learned of Patricia’s escape and her help in making it happen.

It was 9:27pm, Saturday night, and Lola was not expecting anyone other than Patricia to be in the house. She had been forewarned that Tony and Jeremiah would be away most of the night. Her immediate fear was that the police would come to the house while she was there alone. She wanted to go back to Mary Thistle’s home to wait for her awakening, but she knew that was not going to happen soon. She quickly decided that a warning call to Tony had to be done now.

“What do you mean, she got away?” Jeremiah screamed across the telephone connection. “Did you let her off chain?” He inquired in a demanding tone.

“I gave her something to eat,” Lola confessed reluctantly. “It was just one steak. I didn’t think it would hurt anything.”

“Idiot!” Jeremiah yelled back. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

Lola’s anger came to the front in response to Jeremiah’s offensive words, and she ignored his question.

“Where’s Tony?” Lola angrily asked.

Lola was not particularly interested in speaking with Tony, but she no longer wanted to speak with Jeremiah. She tried calling Tony directly, but he never answered his cellphone.

“He’s not here,” Jeremiah growled back. “You need to get out of the house,” he continued angrily.”

“That’s fine with me,” Lola returned testily. “Tell Tony I’ll call him tomorrow night.”

“No!” Jeremiah commanded. “Tony is going to want you here where he can keep an eye on you.”

Jeremiah paused to consider the situation. He knew that Tony wanted him to guard the stash house, but he also knew that he did not want Lola moving about in the streets on her own. Protecting their secret was an important part of Tony’s plan. He also knew that the location of the stash house was a guarded secret even from Lola. His fear was that she might get picked up by the police. After a brief thought, Jeremiah came to a decision on what to do.

“Go to the Corona Plaza Station,” Jeremiah barked. “Wait there by the street. I’ll pick you up in an hour. You got that?” He finished with a commanding tone.

“Yeah,” Lola returned in a voice heavy with resentment. “I got it.”

They disconnected the call without the civility of a goodbye. An hour later they met as planned outside the Corona Plaza Subway Station. Jeremiah picked her up at the curb and immediately drove off after she shut the door. Tony was still out when they arrived at the stash house. Jeremiah went into lecturing Lola on the stupidity of her action, but his anger had more to do with his fear that Patricia was a loss that he might not recoup.

For the most part, Lola endured Jeremiah’s anger in silence. That was a conscious decision by her. She did not want to go into details about Patricia’s escape. She wanted Jeremiah to believe that Patricia slipped out of the house while she was stretched out in the living room watching television. The last thing she wanted Jeremiah or Tony to know was that she left the house to visit Mary Thistle.

Just under a half an hour later, Tony returned to the stash house with Charlie, Ben, Malcolm and Keegan. Despite their tattered and bloody appearance, they were as a giddy as a bunch of five-year olds in a fun park, but that disposition quickly changed. The sight of Lola astonished all of them, but Tony was also angry to see her there.

“What is Lola doing here?” Tony challenged Jeremiah with an annoyed look. “She’s supposed to be at the house watching that plaything of yours.”

“Patricia got away,” Jeremiah quickly announced. “Lola fed her. I told her not to, but she did it anyway.”

Tony’s annoyed expression changed to anger when he turned toward Lola.

“You fed her?” Tony roared as he closed the distance between himself and Lola.

“I gave her one steak,” Lola yelled back. “I didn’t know she was going to break the chain after eating one steak.”

“You didn’t need to know,” Tony yelled back. “You’re supposed to do as you’re told.”

“I’m not one of your thugs, Tony,” Lola growled back with eyes that glinted. “If you didn’t want something like this to happen, then why in the hell did you let Romeo over there drag a girl off the street and chain her up in his basement?” She argued. “How stupid is that?”

Tony seethed with Lola’s every word, and he then turned his anger toward Jeremiah.

“Where is she?” Tony commanded as he moved toward Jeremiah.

“How should I know?” Jeremiah bawled back.

“Where does she live, Jerry?” Tony growled.

“I don’t know where she lives,” Jeremiah returned defensively. “The only time I ever saw her was at the diner. Her purse might still be at the house. I didn’t think to check her address when I took her.”

That answer infuriated Tony, it gave him nothing he could use to control the situation. Lola noted his frustration and instinctively knew that Tony had not given any thought to the bright side.

“Hey, I was there all day,” Lola began with an upbeat inflection. “No cops came to Jeremiah house. She probably hasn’t told anyone.”

Tony pondered that idea.

“Yeah, Lola could be right,” Jeremiah spoke after a moment a thought. “We did warn her about exposing what she was to the cops.”

“Yeah, but did she believe you?” Tony challenged in a moody muse.

“It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t believe she’s a vampire,” Lola countered with an air of indifference. “She has to know she’s different now, and after eating all that meat, she’s feeling pretty good. Besides,” she continued. “She was kidnapped by Prince Charming over here,” Lola spoke while rolling her eyes toward Jeremiah. “She was missing for three days. That’s all the cops need. I’m telling you; the police should have been all over Jeremiah’s house by the time I woke up.”

“I think Lola is right, Tony,” Jeremiah supported eagerly. “I think we should give it some time.”

After a moment of contemplation, Tony relaxed a little. He then turned his attention toward everyone and began sharing his concerns about Patricia and the police. He lectured them on the dangers of exposing their existence to mortals. He told them about the vampire purge that occurred over 2,000 years ago. He told them everything he knew about vampires and about the vampire that made him. At the end of his lecture he told them about Detective Cassidy Tremaine.

“How do you know that the cops or the feds don't already know about vampires?” Keegan asked.

“David Burrell,” Tony answered with two words. “He’s the vampire that Evan was trying to kill. He's still alive and walking around free. I've been keeping tabs on him. He owns the Cavern Nightclub in Lower Manhattan.”

“So, this cop didn't tell anyone?” Malcolm asked with surprise.

“Maybe they turned her,” Keegan tossed in.

“No, she's still mortal. I've been keeping tabs on her too,” Tony advised contemplatively. “She spends most of her day running around in the daylight. There's no way she's one of us. And if she had told the feds she wouldn't still be working as a detective.”

“So, what's her game?” Jeremiah asked bluntly.

“It’s obvious. She doesn't want anyone to know,” Lola surmised as if speaking the obvious.

“Yeah, that's the way I have it figured too,” Tony agreed. “But she may change her mind if she finds out about us,” he sternly added with a look toward Jeremiah.

“So, we kill her,” Charlie concluded with barely a thought.

“Those other vampires might not like that if she’s keeping their secret,” Lola suggested with a who knows shrug.

“What are they going to do, bite us? We bite too,” Tony declared with a pronounced look of confidence. “Our secret is their secret,” he glibly continued. “And in a few months’ time, there's going to be five of us for every one of them. All we need do is keep our heads down. It's the humans we have to worry about.”

There was an awkward moment of silence that followed Tony’s last remark. It shortly became apparent to Tony that something was not being said by one or more of the others in the room.

“What?” Tony asked with a stern look toward Charlie.

“Yeah, about that, I may have spilled the beans to someone,” Charlie hesitantly confessed.

“You told someone?” Tony challenged.

“I—turned someone—into a vampire,” Charlie reluctantly stated.

“What?” Tony roared back at Charlie. “Who?” He shouted with a startled expression.

“Paula,” Charlie softly answered with a word. “I told you about her. We've been together for…”

“You turned her?” Tony asked in a voice laced with disbelief.

“It was an accident,” Charlie quickly defended. “I couldn’t stop myself. It was either turn her or let her die.”

Tony momentarily grumbled with incredulity before speaking his next words.

“Anyone else?”

Tony fixed his gaze on Ben but received no response other than brief look from out the corners of his eyes and a shake his head. Malcolm and Keegan shook their heads and mumbled out a no after Tony looked to them. Tony was all set to be relieved by their responses when Lola raised her hand. Tony turned toward her with a questioning look.

“You know Mary—Thistle?” Lola gently questioned. 

Tony tossed his hands up and gave Lola a look of disbelief.

“You were supposed to stay in the house,” Tony yelled at Lola.

“I wasn't going to sit around cooped up in the house all day,” Lola defiantly insisted. “And I hadn’t seen Mary in six years.”

“Do you know what you did? Do any of you?” Tony raged at everyone around him.

“Mary knows not to say anything,” Lola vehemently asserted. 

Tony turned to look at Charlie and gave him a questioning look.

“Paula is no rat,” Charlie responded to Tony’s unspoken question. “I told her not to talk to anyone.”

Tony glared at Charlie a moment before turning his attention back to Patricia Boyd.

“But this Patricia doesn’t know anything, and if the humans find out about us, the jig is up,” Tony emphatically declared. “They will hunt us down. They’ve done it before. The only way this works is if the humans don’t know we exist. We need to get her off the streets before she can expose us.”

“What if there are cops all around this vampire that he made?” Malcolm asked with a point toward Jeremiah.

Tony considered Malcolm's question. He understood that there was still the possibility that Patricia went to the police.

“Fine,” Tony said with resignation.

Tony took out his cellphone and began dialing his contact inside the NYPD. It showed in his demeanor that he did not want to make this call, but he knew he had to. It was not his practice to discuss sensitive matters over the telephone. His normal practice was to send a text for a face-to-face meeting, but the information he wanted was time sensitive. After a brief conversation with his NYPD contact, Tony learned that there were no warrants, alerts or notices regarding Patricia, Mary or Paula. After getting that information, he quickly discontinued the call.

“Okay, we wait to see how things fall out with this… Patricia,” Tony began with a pondering expression. “I’ll call my contact again in the morning and if there are still no alerts, then we bring them in—all of them. We have to keep this in house.”

The conversation concluded with Tony’s last statement. Everyone began to settle in for the day. After deciding who should sleep and who should stay awake, Lola began feeling a growing sexual excitement. Instinctively, she looked to Tony and found him looking back at her. The sight of him staring at her validated in her mind that there was truth to Jeremiah’s claim that their pheromones were affecting each other. Her growing sexual arousal fascinated and annoyed Lola. She did not like the idea of Tony being in control of her sexual desires, but she was intrigued by what was happening inside of her. She tried to resist the sensation even while she monitored her growing craving for sex. Despite her best effort, the sensation continued working to disarm her resistance. After a few minutes time, her desire for sex was all she could think about, that was when she made a conscious decision to stop resisting her arousal. Her decision was partially motivated by a desire to keep Tony in the dark about her displeasure with the renewal of their relationship. The other motivating factor was her arousal, by then it outweighed her objections. She allowed Tony to lead her to an upstairs room to satiate their lust. The encounter was as intense and as physical as it was the day before and far more so than any time when they were mortals.


	22. David and Margaret

Cassidy was grateful for the arrival of Sunday. She was looking forward to a whole day that she could devote to house and family. All of Saturday morning was taken over by the investigative forensics and paperwork that followed the arrests she made late Friday night and the dramatics that went on with David and _Nadja_ Saturday morning. Cassidy had nothing on her calendar for this day that had anything to do with police work or vampires. When 11am rolled around without incident, Cassidy was convinced that she was in for a typical Sunday with her children. The phone rang at 11:12am and changed that.

“What’s wrong?” Cassidy challenged in place of a greeting.

The caller ID on her cellphone had already forewarned Cassidy of the caller’s identity, and it was that information that had her convinced that an unwanted problem was about to land in her lap.

“Nothing,” David returned. “But there is something I would like to speak with you about.”

“Okay, what’s that?” Cassidy replied.

“I’m a few minutes out,” David delicately advised.

The implication in David’s words stunned Cassidy. For a moment she did not know how to respond to what he was asking for.

“So, not over the phone?” Cassidy mused with a dubious sound in her voice.

“No, not over the phone,” David softly confirmed.

Cassidy considered what David was asking. Being alone with him was always a fretful contemplation within Cassidy. Seeing him inside her home with her children nearby made her choice doubly uneasy, and she hesitated longer than normal for her.

“It’s important,” David announced into the silence between them.

“Okay,” Cassidy finally agreed. 

When David parked his car outside Cassidy’s home, he found her waiting on the other side of the front screen door to the house. Without fanfare or any sign that he was in a hurry, David walked up the path and then the stairs that led to the screen door that Cassidy was standing behind. He carried nothing in his hands or anything extra on his person, a distinction that Cassidy noticed. She was entertaining the idea that the vampires had found something in the file she gave them, and that they wanted her to see it. The absence of anything physical to give or show her gave Cassidy cause to worry little more. She had not decided if she should maintain a romantic relationship with David, and she dreaded the thought of that being the subject of their discussion.

“Come in,” Cassidy entreated while holding the screen door open.

David walked through the front entrance, and Cassidy closed it behind him. Her children were watching TV in the living-room. David’s quick glance in the children’s direction made Cassidy visibly anxious.

“Kids,” Cassidy called out to Cynthia and John. “This is David. We’re going to be talking in the kitchen. So, try to be quiet and no fighting, okay?”

“Okay,” Cynthia and John quickly agreed.

After getting that agreement from her children, Cassidy led David into the kitchen before turning about to look at him with a stern expression.

“Okay, what’s so important?” Cassidy asked with a huff of resignation.

“They want me to—encourage you to dig deeper,” David confessed reluctantly. “They’re looking for someone in particular, and he wasn’t in the file that you gave us.”

“Who? What’s his name?” Cassidy asked impatiently.

“They don’t know his full name—just a first name—Jerry,” David cautiously instructed.

“Jerry?” Cassidy queried back with a frown.

“Yeah,” David confirmed. “It could be short for Gerald or—Jermaine, but he’s definitely referred to as Jerry.” 

Cassidy was visibly puzzled by this new information.

“What does he do?” Cassidy asked after a moment of thought.

“They believe that he and Tony McGuire are criminal associates, and that he may be working the numbers—doing the books,” David explained.

Cassidy paused to puzzle over this new request while shaking her head in disbelief that she was hearing this now.

“Where are you getting this name from?” Cassidy pondered aloud with an annoyed frown.

“ _Razvan_ ,” David answered as if he expected the question.

For the second time since the search for Tony McGuire came to her attention, Cassidy was suspicious of a lead originating from _Razvan_. The first time it occurred, she was not sure why information from _Razvan_ bothered her, but this time the reason was clear. She did not understand why the now dead _Razvan_ would have told them this information when he was alive. It made better sense to her for him to keep his criminal business a secret from the other vampires.

“Everything in those files is all that we have on Tony McGuire and his known associates,” Cassidy instructed after shaking off distracting questions about _Razvan_.

“They need you to look deeper,” David said with a stark delivery.

Cassidy paused with a look of disgust. She had hoped that the file she gave the vampires would be all they needed to find Tony McGuire. She desperately wanted him found, but she wanted the Dacia Vampires to do it. The fact that they were still pushing her to do more to help them gave her cause to believe the situation was out of control. Exposing the existence of vampires to the world was the last thing Cassidy wanted, but she feared that event might soon come to pass. And what angered her the most at this moment was the decision she had to make, tell the world now so that humans could prepare, or wait for the death toll to announce their existence.

“Damn you,” Cassidy raged at David. “I can’t do this. I’m not some damn vampire hunter. What do you think I’m doing when I’m not compiling files on suspected vampires for you? I—I have job. The Dryden murder, that case that the local news has been harping on for a week, that’s me. That’s what I’m doing when I’m not being your—vampire agent. I spend my days out there trying to find human criminals, and then you come in here and dump the future of—of—everything, the world, the human race in my hands...”

Cassidy stopped rant and fumed at David who was silently enduring her anger.

“What am I supposed to do?” Cassidy stridently queried.

David understood Cassidy’s concerns and that she was likely questioning should she expose the vampires to the world. It was for just that reason _Stefan_ sent him to make this additional request of her. It was _Stefan_ ’s hope and gamble that her affection for David would stop her from taking any rash actions. 

“That’s your decision—Cassidy,” David softly answered.

Cassidy had no immediate response nor reaction to David’s reply. Hearing her name softly spoken from his mouth calmed her fear and anger to a noticeable degree. Moments later, the sounds of her children greeting her mother began reverberating into the kitchen.

“Oh no,” Cassidy exclaimed with astonishment.

Cynthia spotted her grandmother coming up the walkway from the front window. She ran to the front door, opened it and let her in the house. Margaret was in the middle of giving hugs and hellos to Cynthia and John when Cassidy rushed out from the kitchen.

“Mom?” Cassidy exclaimed. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“No, honey,” Margaret returned dismissively. “I was at the store, and the peaches and plums were in season and I just thought I would bring you some,” she explained while holding up two small shopping bags.

“Oh, thanks, mom,” Cassidy responded with a forced smile.

Margaret barely noticed her daughter’s words. She blithely stepped around Cassidy and started for the kitchen before she finished speaking. Cassidy made no effort to stop her. Because it was common for Margaret to go where she pleased inside her home, Cassidy knew that any effort to impede her mother would raise her suspicion. She also knew that any act to hide David from Margaret would be undone by Cynthia and John.

“No, no,” Cassidy shooed her children back toward the living room when they attempted to follow their grandmother into the kitchen. “Grandma and I have to talk for a few minutes.”

As soon as Cynthia and John started back for the living room, Cassidy hurried after her mother just as she was turning into the kitchen entrance.

“Oh!” Margaret cried out with surprise at the sight of David sitting at the kitchen table in his expensive suit and tie.

“Mom, mom,” Cassidy called as she hurried into the kitchen. “This is—David,” she quickly announced as David rose from his chair.

“David!” Margaret loudly echoed with a surprised expression.

“David, this is my mother, Margaret,” Cassidy introduced as she moved between them.

“It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Tremaine,” David greeted with a smile and a slight head and shoulder bow.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you—David,” Margaret greeted with a wide smile and looking intrigued.

As she spoke, Margaret stepped forward and extended her hand. David promptly took her hand and gave it a light shake. Cassidy watched the meeting progress with a dismayed expression.

“Do you have a last name, David?” Margaret continued speaking as they shook hands.

“Burrell,” David quickly answered with a smile.

Margaret continued to stand in front of David with an admiring smile even after their hands had parted.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Burrell,” Margaret greeted with a wide smile.

“No, it’s just David, please,” David quickly corrected.

“Okay—David,” Margaret returned as she continued to admire David. “I’ve heard so little about you. I was beginning to think you were a figment of my daughter’s imagination.”

“No, Mrs. Tremaine, I’m real enough,” David replied pleasantly. “But I know how you feel. I have often had the same impression about your daughter.”

“Really,” Margaret responded just before giving Cassidy a sly glance.

Margaret continued to stand in front of David. It was a calculated act that was designed to keep David in place, and it was working to perfection. David calmly stood in place and maintained a pleasant demeanor while Cassidy grew increasingly agitated.

“So, tell me David, what do you do for a living?” Margaret asked as she placed the peaches and plums on the table and then crossed her arms.

“I’m an entrepreneur,” David answered without hesitation. “I own several commercial buildings here in the states and in Europe.”

“Europe,” Margaret echoed with a look of surprise.

“Yes, mom, Europe,” Cassidy reiterated impatiently. “But I’m sure David has things to do.”

“Well, you must be very successful at it,” Margaret spoke despite Cassidy’s attempt to run interference.

Margaret used the time it took to speak her observation to give David’s attire an admiring down and up perusal.

“I’m doing okay,” David responded with an amused expression. “But I can’t take too much credit for that. Much of what I own was handed down to me by my parents.”

“So, you inherited an estate?” Margaret questioned with enthusiasm.

“Yes, mother,” Cassidy abruptly intervened. “David is rich, and he owns a condominium on Park Avenue,” she finished with a sigh of exasperation.

Margaret turned to take in Cassidy’s recitation, and then she turned her attention back toward David with smile.

“So, how did you-two meet?” Margaret asked with an eagerness.

“I was a suspect in one of your daughter’s investigations,” David returned with a playful expression. “But don’t worry, your daughter caught the real criminal, and we became friends.”

“Good,” Margaret responded with a grinning expression. “It wouldn’t do to have my police officer daughter dating a criminal.”

“Mother!” Cassidy sharply interjected. “David and I are friends.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Margaret quickly apologized to David with a façade of embarrassment and with excessive sincerity. “I thought…”

“Yes, we know what you thought, mother,” Cassidy quickly countered. “But I think David has to go now.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I hope I wasn’t keeping you,” Margaret directed at David pleasantly.

“It’s not a problem, Mrs. Tremaine,” David returned dismissively.

“Please, call me Margaret,” Margaret instructed with a blush.

“Margaret,” David returned with a slight bow. “But I was about to leave. I just stopped in to say high and catch up since I was in the neighborhood.”

David began moving toward the kitchen exit behind Cassidy’s lead.

“I hope we’ll see each other again,” Margaret called out to David before he could pass through the kitchen doorway.

David stopped and turned back to respond to Margaret’s declaration.

“I hope that too, Margaret,” David reciprocated gently and with smile.

David turned and followed Cassidy out the kitchen and to the front door of the house. When Cassidy opened the door, David pushed open the screen door, stepped out onto the porch and then turned around to face Cassidy.

“Should we start running?” David softly asked with downcast eyes.

Cassidy briefly hesitated before responding in a quiet but stern voice.

“I’ll see what I can find on this—Jerry.”

After making that declaration, Cassidy shut the door. She then turned about, took a sizable breath and went back into the kitchen.

“Wow,” Margaret exclaimed. “He’s gorgeous and rich?”

Cassidy did her best to ignore the question while she gathered up the peaches and plums and took them to the sink to be washed.

“He has his faults,” Cassidy sighed as she retrieved a mesh strainer from a cupboard.

“I can’t imagine what faults he could have that would make me kick him out of my bed,” Margaret marveled with an astonished shake of her head.

“You’d be surprised,” Cassidy mockingly replied while continuing to rinse the peaches and plums.

“So, surprise me,” Margaret urged with an exaggerated inflection of curiosity.

“Not now, mother,” Cassidy dismissed as she continued to rinse the peaches and plums.


	23. Come With Us

It was shortly past sunset, Sunday evening, when Patricia Boyd awakened from her sleep. Her roommate, Sandra Moore, had been trying to wake her up, off and on, over the past hour. Sandra went from light knocks on Patricia’s bedroom door to hard poundings in her attempts to awaken her. When Patricia finally emerged from behind her locked door, Sandra hurried to confront her.

“You’re late for work,” Sandra exclaimed.

Patricia showed no signs that she heard Sandra’s exclamation; she was too busy sniffing the air that wafting between them.

“And if you don’t make an appearance today, you’ll probably lose your job,” Sandra continued with a touch of hysterics.

“I’m late?” Patricia queried as though she was barely conscious.

“Yes,” Sandra insisted.

Patricia appeared to be considering her situation as she continued to wander into the living room with a down cast gaze.

“You need to get dressed,” Sandra stridently asserted.

“You know what, I don’t think I’m going in to work today,” Patricia mumbled with indifference.

“What?” Sandra countered with astonishment. “This will be the third day you didn’t go work.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Patricia returned. “I’ll call in,” she added dismissively.

“And tell them what?” Sandra loudly asked.

Patricia stopped wandering about the room to ponder Sandra’s question.

“What?” Sandra yelled again after a prolonged silence from Patricia.

“I don’t know,” Patricia responded while throwing up her hands in a display of annoyance.

Patricia took another moment to sniff in Sandra’s direction. Patricia’s odd behavior caught Sandra’s attention, and she stepped back and gave her roommate a look of dismay.

“What happened to you?” Sandra challenged. “What really happened to you, and what happened with Toby last night? He ran out of here like the building was on fire.”

“He hit me,” Patricia exclaimed with a sudden flair of anger.

“What?” Sandra asked with astonishment.

“He accused me of cheating on him, and then he hit me,” Patricia repeated with a scowl.

“And that’s why he ran out of here?” Sandra asked with skepticism.

“Ah no,” Patricia responded hesitantly. “I hit him back,” she confessed reluctantly.

Despite her hesitance, Patricia had no problem with admitting to Sandra that she hit Toby. What worried her was admitting to herself that she threw Toby across the room.

“You hit him?” Sandra asked with surprise and disbelief.

“I hit him hard,” Patricia qualified with assertiveness.

Sandra paused to consider Patricia’s reply.

“Okay then,” Sandra began with a bewildered shake of her head. “What happened with the missing days? What really happened?”

“I told you,” Patricia returned apathetically. “Some creepy guy named Jeremiah chained me to a pole in his basement.”

“That’s not what you said to the police,” Sandra disputed.

“I didn’t want to talk the police,” Patricia shrieked. “I never told you to call the police.”

“Patricia,” Sandra shrieked. “You were missing for three days.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Patricia pushed back. “But you shouldn’t have told the police I was kidnapped. I didn’t tell you to do that.”

“Why not?” Sandra asked argumentatively. “He kidnapped you. He should be in jail.”

“I know, I know,” Patricia agreed with a shrug. “But I can’t do that.”

Patricia knew that everything Sandra was suggesting was the correct thing to do, but she could not escape the feeling that it was the wrong thing for her. Much of what occurred around Patricia in Jeremiah’s basement existed as a vague memory in her head. She remembered being hungry, tired and weak. And she remembered Jeremiah, Tony and Lola talking about her as something new, different and dangerous. But what she remembered the most was Jeremiah’s repeated warnings that the police would arrest her and never let her go if they found out what she was. That was the memory fueling her reluctance to file a complaint with the police.

“Why?” Sandra hollered. “Who is this guy?”

“He’s a regular at the diner,” Patricia tossed out with indifference. “He’s a nobody.”

“A nobody who had you chained to a pole in his basement,” Sandra said as though she was shocked to even have to say it.

“I know,” Patricia agreed as she looked down at the floor and shook her head.

Sandra examined her roommate as though she was seeing someone new and different. After several seconds of study, she raised her hand just as she was about to speak when a knock stopped her. Sandra went straight away to the apartment door and looked through the peep hole. On the other side of the door was small thin man that she had never seen before.

“Who’s there?” Sandra asked through the door.

“Is Patricia there?” The small man at the door asked.

“Who wants to know?” Sandra queried back.

“I’m looking for Patricia,” the small man asserted through the door loudly.

“That’s him,” Patricia exclaimed with outrage. “Don’t let him in.”

Sandra was surprised by Patricia’s sudden outburst and flash of temper.

“Go away or I’ll call the police,” Sandra shouted at the door as she backed away from it.

First there was a moment of silence after Sandra’s shout, then came the sound of a key jiggling into the door’s deadbolt.

“No,” Sandra yelled as she raced forward to get her hands on the door chain.

Just as Sandra’s hands reached the door it swung open and knocked her up against the wall and then down to the floor. Jeremiah rushed through the doorway, past Sandra and right up to Patricia in the living room.

“You’re coming with me,” Jeremiah commanded as he grabbed Patricia by the arm and pulled.

Patricia pulled back against Jeremiah's effort to drag her out of the apartment, and to Jeremiah's surprise, she stayed in place. Angered by the strength of her resistance, Jeremiah growled as he began to pull harder.

“I'm calling the police,” Sandra yelled as she got up from the floor, went to the apartment’s landline and picked up the receiver.

“No!” Jeremiah and Patricia simultaneously yelled out.

Sandra froze with the receiver in her hand. She was shocked to hear Patricia and the intruder simultaneously tell her to stop. She was in a state of indecision. She just stood there up against the wall and watched as they continued to struggle. During their tussle, Patricia noticed for the first time that Jeremiah did not smell like food. He was the first person she had encountered since her escape from the basement who did not smell like something she wanted to eat.

“What are you?” Patricia growled with a shocked expression.

“I’m your mate,” Jeremiah growled back.

That reply surprised Patricia, and for a moment she froze from shock. Seconds later, she awakened from her astonishment, and with one sudden twist and pull, she ripped her arms free from Jeremiah's grasp and quickly stepped back.

“What do you mean?” Patricia asked with alarm.

In that instant, Jeremiah saw an opportunity. He could see in Patricia's expression, and in her words and actions, that she was recognizing her difference from others. The idea that he might be able to lure her with words and pheromones popped into his mind.

“We're the same,” Jeremiah advised in a tone just above a whisper.

“I’m not anything like you,” Patricia snapped back with a furious glare.

“We belong together,” Jeremiah rapaciously articulated. “I know you feel it, because I feel you.” 

“All I feel is disgust, asshole,” Patricia countered with a repugnant sneer.

“You’re coming with me,” Jeremiah spoke with insistence.

As Jeremiah spoke those words, he took a step forward, and Patricia lurched back in response.

“Stay the fuck away from me, creep,” Patricia scolded.

“I made you,” Jeremiah strongly pleaded. “You’re my mate.” 

“You’re insane,” Patricia countered. “Stay the hell away from me,” she insisted while taking another step back.

“You can’t fight it,” Jeremiah entreated with a sly smile. “I know you feel it,” he schmoozed while inching forward. “I feel your excitement. We belong together,” he finished with a smile of satisfaction.

Patricia did feel a sexual excitement rising within her, but it had no effect on her dislike of Jeremiah.

“All I feel is disgust,” Patricia roared as she lunged forward and pushed Jeremiah away.

An instant later, Patricia was racing by Jeremiah as he was falling to the floor. Without hesitation or a look back, she ran out of the apartment, down the hallway and into the building’s stairwell. As she ran, Patricia felt as though she was running from herself more than Jeremiah. She knew, instinctively, that the sexual craving she felt was being instigated by him. 

When Patricia came out of the stairwell on the ground floor, she raced to the front exit, threw open the door and ran out of the building. After completing two strides out the doorway, she was surprised by a figure that suddenly approached her from her right. Before she could react, the figure ensnared her, and she instantly realized that she was being restrained by a tall strong man.

“Hey, hey, hold on,” Keegan encouraged in an amiable voice.

“Let go of me,” Patricia hollered as she fought against Keegan’s hold.

“Okay, okay, I will,” Keegan assured without loosening his grasp. “Just don’t run away. Please. I just want to talk.”

Patricia continued to wrestle against Keegan’s bear hug.

“You’re still trying to run,” Keegan mildly informed.

“Okay, I won’t run, now let me go,” Patricia growled just as she stopped struggling.

“Okay,” Keegan quickly agreed while maintaining his bear hug. “Just don’t run away, okay?” he expressed with a cheerful expression. “I just want to talk.”

“I said okay,” Patricia snarled.

Keegan maintained his grasp for a couple of seconds more, and then he began relaxing his hold. When his arms were no longer overlapped around her, Patricia wrenched her shoulders out from between them, stepped away and turned around. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Patricia demanded as she examined the stranger in front of her.

“I’m a friend,” Keegan quickly assured.

Patricia neither accepted nor disbelieved Keegan’s claim of friendship. What she did know was that he did not smell like food, just like Jeremiah. That fact, along with his seemingly friendly manner and exceptionally good looks was enough to intrigue her into engaging with him verbally. She was in the middle of closely examining the tall, handsome stranger when Jeremiah raced out of the building.

“Keep him away from me,” Patricia yelled as she hurried behind Keegan.

“Hold on,” Keegan called out while extending a stiff arm out toward Jeremiah.

“She’s mine,” Jeremiah growled as he came to a stop in front of Keegan. “Get out of the way.”

Jeremiah quickly moved to circle around Keegan, but his effort was thwarted when Keegan made a sidestep that blocked his path.

“Stay away,” Patricia yelled as she maneuvered to keep Keegan between her and Jeremiah.

“Back off, Jerry,” Keegan barked at Jeremiah the same moment Patricia yelled.

Keegan’s command infuriated Jeremiah. He moved to within inches of Keegan and grumbled at him with eyes that were reflecting light. For a second, Jeremiah considered lunging at Keegan with his claws and fangs bared, but fear and judgement restrained him from attacking another vampire who was nearly a foot taller than him.

“You don’t want to do that, Jerry,” Keegan gruffly warned with eyes that reflected light also.

After fuming a few seconds, Jeremiah stepped back and softened his demeanor enough to extinguish the reflection in his eyes. A moment later, Keegan relaxed.

“She has to come with us,” Jeremiah insisted with desperation.

“I’ll take care of it,” Keegan returned softly.

Keegan gave Jeremiah a nodding gesture toward the people further down the street who were watching them. Jeremiah looked in the direction that Keegan indicated and noticed for the first time that half a dozen pair of eyes were fixed on them. After a moment, Jeremiah turned his attention back toward Keegan.

“She has to come with us, Keegan,” Jeremiah whispered with insistence.

“I’ll take care of it,” Keegan stressed in a hushed voice. “Get in the car,” he instructed Jeremiah with a gesture of his head.

Jeremiah paused for a few seconds to fume over the way this event was playing out, and then he set off for the car in a sulk. When he was seated behind the steering wheel of his late model four door BMW X4, Keegan turned about and faced Patricia. 

“Are you here to kill me?” Patricia asked snidely.

“No,” Keegan returned with a baffled expression. “And neither is he,” he added with a gesture toward Jeremiah.

Patricia silently considered Keegan’s reply.

“We’re here to protect you,” Keegan added with concern.

“Why do I need protection?” Patricia challenged with a mixture of anger and suspicion in her voice.

“Because,” Keegan softly spoke while taking a half step forward and crossing his hands behind his back. “Patricia,” he continued while leaning forward slightly. “You are one of us,” he finished with his voice just above a whisper.

Patricia pondered Keegan’s answer with a confused expression.

“No,” Patricia responded with a brief shake of her head. “I’m not one of anybody.”

“You know you are,” Keegan countered with assertion. “You feel it—you’re stronger—faster. You see better—hear better. All your senses are heightened.”

Patricia was made uneasy by the suggestion that she was a different person. She began shaking her head in disbelief.

“You know I’m right, Patricia,” Keegan continued to gently assert. “Everyone that you’ve come into contact with smells like food—Everyone accept me—and Jeremiah,” he softly pushed while taking a half step forward.

Patricia titled her head up slightly to get a better smell.

“It’s the smells,” Keegan acknowledged with a smile and a nod. “You’re discovering there’s a whole new universe of smells, and you can tell by my smell that we’re the same—like we’re two of a kind living on a planet full of aliens. That’s why you feel like you can trust me.”

“I don’t trust anybody,” Patricia impudently disputed.

“You know it’s true—You’re one of us—And when people who are not like us find out about you, they will lock you up just for being what you are.” 

“But I’m safe with you?” Patricia challenged with a mixture of anger and skepticism.

“Yes, you are,” Keegan assured with a nod of his head.

“He chained me to a pole in his basement,” Patricia stridently countered.

“No more chains,” Keegan quickly insisted with a shake of his head. “I promise. No one is going to harm you or touch you or chain you. You have my word on that,” he finished with as much sincerity as he could summon.

Patricia paused to assess Keegan. She wanted to believe him. And because he did not smell like food, it felt like she needed to be with him.

“What did he do to me?” Patricia grumbled as though she was daring Keegan to tell her the truth.

“That’s what we need to explain,” Keegan returned. “But we can’t do it here.”

“And I’m supposed to just trust you?” Patricia challenged defiantly.

“Hey, I didn’t do this to you,” Keegan earnestly pleaded. “He did it. I’m just trying to clean up his mess,” he finished with a gesture toward Jeremiah.

“So, I’m a mess that needs to be cleaned up,” Patricia shrieked accusingly.

“No, no, no,” Keegan quickly reacted. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that if the wrong people find you, then they’ll find Jeremiah, and then they’ll probably find all of us.”

Patricia’s mind locked in on the phrase all of us.

“Who’s all of us?” Patricia eagerly questioned.

“There are others like us,” Keegan confirmed. “You’ve already met a couple of us—ah, Tony and Lola. They’ll be there.”

Patricia had a clear memory of Lola. She recalled that Lola was sympathetic when she was chained to the pole, and that it was Lola who gave her something to eat when she was out of her mind with starvation. That act of kindness left an indelible impression within her.

“Lola?” Patricia mused out loud.

“Yeah, Lola. She’s one of us, and she’ll be there too,” Keegan assured cheerfully.

The thought of being in a room with Lola again gave Patricia reason to believe that there might not be any danger in going with this man. She knew that Jeremiah wanted her alive and unharmed, and she was also weighing her own curiosity about who they were and what was done to her.

“And if I come, no one will chain me or lock me up?” Patricia sternly questioned.

“No, that won’t happen,” Keegan adamantly assured. “If you come with us. I promise, no one will touch you. They’ll be no more chains. We just want to take you to a safe place to talk.”

Patricia considered Keegan and his promises for several seconds. She felt as if she could trust him, and some of that trust existed because she found him attractive. She was also motivated by the belief that she had been profoundly changed in some way. And her fear of being in danger because of that change had her weighing the pros and cons of getting inside the car.

“And what if I decide to leave?” Patricia boldly asked after a moment of thought.

“Then you can leave,” Keegan blithely returned.

Patricia folded her arms and gave Keegan a dubious look.

“And no one will try to stop me—or kill me?” Patricia quizzed with a discerning gaze.

Keegan took a moment to think about the question.

“Well, if they do, then they’ll have to kill us both,” Keegan answered with an amused expression.

Patricia paused a few seconds to scrutinize Keegan’s face.

“Promise?” Patricia asked with a scowl.

“Promise,” Keegan returned with a nod and a smile.

After studying Keegan’s expression for a few seconds more, Patricia returned his smile, rolled her eyes, then got into the back seat of Jeremiah’s car. Patricia took the seat on the passenger’s side and scrunched herself into the corner so that she was as far away from Jeremiah as possible. After Keegan got into the front passenger seat, Patricia looked up at the car’s rear-view mirror and saw Jeremiah looking back at her with a smile of satisfaction. Instantly she turned her gaze out the window.

“Patricia,” Keegan spoke as he turned halfway around in his seat. “My name is Keegan, and I want to thank you for coming. You won’t regret it. I promise.”

“Yeah, just keep him away from me, Keegan” Patricia insisted as she continued to stare out the window.

When Jeremiah began steering his BMW X4 out into the street, Sandra Moore raced out onto the sidewalk and took note of the car and its license plate. She continued to watch as the car rolled away into the distance and then turn out of sight around a corner. For several minutes after Jeremiah’s car was gone from view, Sandra stood on the sidewalk wondering if she should go back inside or wait where she was. When she finally made up her mind to return to her apartment, an NYPD Patrol car turned the corner onto the block, rolled down the street and stopped in front of her. Sandra went to it without hesitation.


	24. Welcome to the Family

It was mid Sunday afternoon when Mary Thistle awakened in her bed groggy, tired and disoriented. For the first few minutes, she did not know who or where she was. When the who and where did finally register in her mind, that newfound awareness was instantly overwhelmed by the extreme fatigue, weakness and hunger that was raging inside her. All other concerns were inconsequential. Driven by a craving for food and water, Mary rolled out of her bed and onto her bedroom floor. She then crawled to the bedroom door, used the nob to pull herself up onto her feet and stumbled out into hall.

The fatigue and cravings inside Mary motivated her every move. When she made her way into the kitchen, Mary went straight to the refrigerator, pulled out a large covered plastic bowl largely filled with a leftover vegetable beef stir fry dish. She immediately peeled off the lid and began feeding herself hand to mouth. Shortly after she consumed the contents of the bowl, she began experiencing abdominal pangs and started regurgitating the food she had just swallowed.

Mary was not overly surprised by her body’s rejection of the vegetables; they were disagreeable to her sense of smell and taste. When her convulsions stopped, she raced to the kitchen sink and quickly drank three glasses of water. After the water, she then turned her attention back to the refrigerator and quickly found a near empty package of bologna. She instinctively knew that the meat would not be rejected by her body and consumed the five slices inside the package within seconds. But that did not come close to satisfying her hunger.

Mary knew there was no more meat in the kitchen and concluded within a few seconds that she had to leave the house. The bologna had energized her a little, but not enough to give her the stamina to go shopping. She feared a trip to the grocery store might require more effort than she could sustain. The possibility of collapsing unconscious on the grocery store floor was in her thoughts. In the end, Mary came up with an acceptable alternative.

Sarah Price was a good friend who lived five houses down from her. They shared similar life experiences, and they bought lived alone. That last distinction was the reason behind much of their interaction with each other. They frequently dined together, shopped together and hung out together. They were two women in the declining years of their lives who enjoyed each other’s company and lived conveniently near to each other. Mary was sure that walking down to Sarah’s home would not be too much for her, and she was almost certain that Sarah was home.

Mary thought nothing of changing her clothes. She did not want to waste the energy it would take to wash and change. Her memory was back and sharper than it had ever been. Everything that happened with Lola the day before was now clear in her mind. Mary was also feeling the differences between the body she had before Lola’s visit and the body she had now. The belief that her youth was returning and that she was now immortal had her eager to complete the transformation. She recalled what Lola told her about how her body would burn off fat at a rapid pace during the transition period and how fatigued and hungry she would be when she awakened. That knowledge and all that she was experiencing now had Mary eager to complete her transformation into a fully functional vampire.

In her hurry to get to Sarah’s house, Mary gave little thought to Lola’s warning about going out during the day. She knew that she had a vulnerability to the sun, but she was not expecting it to be to extreme. She recalled that it was close to noon when Lola arrived at her door. With that memory in her head, Mary floundered out of her house and started for Sarah’s without regard for the sun. She was barely two houses down from her home when a wave of exhaustion hit her. Her body began to sweat profusely, and her eyes stung with pain from the light of the day. Her strained walk slowed to the pace of a decrepit senior citizen, but she continued to move forward and arrived at Sarah Price’s front door barely able to stand.

“Oh my God, what happened to you?” Sarah exclaimed with alarm. “Come in, come in.”

Mary slowly crossed the threshold of the doorway and continued toward the living room. Sarah shut the front door behind her and then hurried ahead into the living room. Sarah was taken aback by Mary’s disheveled appearance. She noted that her friend of seven years was so heavily soaked in sweat that her first thought was she fell into some wet grass.

“Sit, Mary,” Sarah encouraged while directing her toward a sofa chair.

Mary ignored the offer and immediately began steering herself toward the kitchen.

“I need something to eat,” Mary sighed.

“Yeah, okay,” Sarah agreed as she hurried ahead into the kitchen.

“I have a chicken casserole,” Sarah reported as she partially opened the refrigerator door. “Can I heat you up a plate?”

“No,” Mary sharply declined. “You have meat?” She asked while pulling the refrigerator door wide open.

Sarah was surprised by the energy Mary suddenly displayed when she grabbed the refrigerator door and threw it all the way open. As Mary leaned in toward the refrigerator, Sarah stepped back and watched as her friend searched the shelves for food. For the first time, Sarah noticed of a difference in Mary’s physical appearance beyond her clothes. It was clear to her that Mary had lost some weight. She was also seeing movements that were not a match for the 58-year-old Mary that she knew.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sarah asked with an astonished gaze. “What happened?”

“Do you have meat?” Mary hurriedly asked as she continued to look through the contents of the refrigerator.

“The casserole has meat in it,” Sarah returned with a questioning look.

“No,” Mary insisted. “I don’t want a casserole. I need meat.”

“Fine, I’ll cook you some bacon,” Sarah replied with a hint of exasperation.

The instant Mary heard the word bacon, her attention went down to the drawers at the bottom of the refrigerator. She quickly pulled one of the drawers out and snatched a package of bacon out of it. Without hesitating, Mary ripped open the package and began gorging on the few strips of bacon inside. Sarah watched in shock and disbelief as Mary consumed six uncooked strips of bacon in less than a minute.

“Mary,” Sarah called out with a look of dismay. “You just ate uncooked bacon.”

“Do you have anymore?” Mary eagerly asked without regard for Sarah’s shock.

Sarah scrutinized Mary’s actions and grew increasingly confused and worried as she did.

“What’s wrong with you?” Sarah asked again.

“Nothing is wrong,” Mary answered defensively. “I’ve changed, that’s all. I’m different.”

No sooner had Mary finished speaking that reply was her sense of smell beginning to register the scent of Sarah’s blood seeping through her pours. Without thinking it, Mary took a step toward Sarah.

“Different how?” Sarah questioned with her face scrunched into a look of confusion.

“I’ve become better,” Mary pondered out as she savored the smell of blood.

“What does that mean?” Sarah continued to question with a puzzled expression.

“It means that I’m becoming young again,” Mary responded dismissively as she continued to move toward Sarah.

“I don’t understand, Mary?” Sarah challenged with exasperation. “You’re not making sense.”

Mary gave no thought to verbally responding to Sarah’s last question. Extreme hunger had her thoughts in a perpetual state of distraction, and the smell of Sarah’s blood had her appetite whetted to feed on her friend. Seconds later, her eyes began reflecting light and the beginnings of fangs started to protrude from between her lips.

“What’s happened to you?” A now frightened Sarah questioned as she moved back against the kitchen counter.

Sarah watched with a mixture of amazement and terror in her expression as her friend continued to approach like a cat stalking a prey.

“Mary, what—what’s happening?” Sarah stuttered out in wide-eyed horror.

Driven more by hunger, Mary lunged at Sarah and quickly wrestled her to the floor. Without hesitation she bit into Sarah’s neck and tore open her carotid artery. Despite Sarah’s screams and moans Mary feverishly siphoned blood from her body. A minute later, Sarah’s moans were just whimpers. Her heartbeat began to slow, and her struggle stopped. After another minute, Sarah’s heartbeat was gone, but Mary continued to suck on the wound in her neck for a couple minutes more.

When Mary finished her feeding frenzy, she sat back on the floor and savored her meal. For nearly a minute she silently reveled in her satiated condition. It was at the end of this span when her thoughts returned to Sarah.

“Oh my God,” Mary whispered as she stared at the lifeless body of her friend.

An instant later, Mary frantically pushed herself away from Sarah as though distance would somehow turn what she had done into a dream of an event that did not happen. For several minutes she sat on the floor across from Sarah’s body and stared at her in terror. Despite all her wishes, prayers and denials, Mary could not escape the conclusion that she had killed someone. What made the killing even worse was the awareness that the someone was her friend. 

Motivated by her affinity for Sarah, Mary began to realize that she might be able to duplicate what Lola did to her. After a few seconds of thought, she decided to turn Sarah. She quickly hurried over to Sarah’s body and laid it flat and straight on the floor. She then got up off the floor, grabbed a cooking knife out of a holding block and cut into her palm. She then dropped back down to the floor and began dripping her blood into Sarah’s mouth. Several seconds later, she pushed back from Sarah’s body and began the wait for the transformation.

Mary did not know if she fed her blood to Sarah correctly or in time. She only had Lola’s brief description of the process that was told to her in passing. She spent the next several minutes praying that Lola left nothing out in her telling of how Tony turned her into a vampire. When she tired of doing nothing but praying and panicking, Mary lifted Sarah off the floor and carried her out of the kitchen, up the stairs to the second level and into her bedroom. After laying Sarah onto her bed, Mary settled into a chair to wait out the transformation or the proof that it was not going to happen.

Over the course of the afternoon Sarah’s home telephone rang three times. Each time it rang, Mary noted that the caller was Sarah’s son, Kenneth Price. Mary knew Kenneth personally. She met him several times and thought him to be a charming and good-looking young man. She knew him to be a dutiful son who loved his mother, and those traits made Mary worried. The last thing she wanted to happen was Kenneth checking in on his mother. Her fear came to pass shortly after sunset.

“Mom!” Kenneth shouted from just inside the front door. “Are you home?”

Mary was not surprised to hear Kenneth’s voice inside the house. Even though she was sitting in Sarah’s bedroom, she heard his footfalls as he walked up to the front door. She heard his key jiggling into the lock, and she heard the door open. With all that information, Mary was panicked. She weighed the option of answering Kenneth’s call against remaining silent and hoping he went away. During her deliberation on her choices, she heard Kenneth start his assent up the stairs, and she knew at that moment her options were gone.

“Hi Kenneth,” Mary cheerfully greeted as she rushed out into the hallway.

Kenneth was taken aback by the sudden appearance of Mary. Up until that moment, he was proceeding on the premise that no one was in the house and hoping that was true. He knew that if his mother was home, then the silence meant that she was in distress or worst.

“Hi—Mary?” Kenneth in part greeted and questioned. 

Mary was momentarily perplexed by Kenneth’s greeting and question in one sentence. She was oblivious to the change that occurred to her appearance over the past several hours. She was not aware that the transformation in her appearance was still ongoing and had sped up since she fed on Sarah. If she had taken stock of herself, she would have seen that her body had lost more than twenty pounds and the age lines in her face were gone.

“Yes,” Mary returned in response to Kenneth’s confused greeting.

“Is that really you?” Kenneth queried as he leaned in to look closer.

“Yes, it’s me, Mary. What’s wrong?” Mary asked.

“You look different,” Kenneth replied. “Did you lose weight?”

“Ah—yes, I guess I did a little,” Mary returned with a sudden understanding of Kenneth’s confusion.

“More than a little,” Kenneth corrected. “No,” he suddenly disputed. “You can’t be Mary.”

“Yes, Kenneth, it’s me,” Mary reassured with a nod of her head.

Kenneth shook his head, and then he gave Mary’s attire a good look. He noted that her appearance was decidedly disheveled, and her clothes did not appear to fit.

“Where’s my mother,” Kenneth asked assertively.

Kenneth started to walk around Mary and was stopped by a quick sidestep from her.

“Sarah is sleeping,” Mary quickly spoke. “She’s a little under the weather,” she continued with her palms up in a wait here gesture.

Kenneth gave Mary a suspicious look, and then hurried around her and into his mother’s room.

“What is this?” Kenneth exclaimed as he hurried to his mother’s bedside. “Mom!” He called as he stood over his mother.

When Kenneth did not get a response from Sarah, he turned to look at Mary with shock and anger.

“What did you do?” Kenneth asked in a demanding tone.

Mary had no idea how she should respond and shrugged her shoulders instead. Kenneth took note of Mary’s silence before turning his attention back to his mother.

“Mom!” Kenneth called out as he shook Sarah’s arm.

After several more attempts to awaken his mother, Kenneth noticed the wound on her neck and turned her head to take a better look.

“What did you do?” Kenneth roared at Mary furiously.

Once again, Mary did not know what to say or how to respond. She threw her hands up and shook her head while appearing sorrowful. Kenneth was not moved by Mary’s pitiful display and promptly reached for the telephone by Sarah’s bed.

“No!” Mary screamed as she grabbed Kenneth by the arm and slung him to the floor.

Kenneth landed on the floor then quickly rolled up to a sitting position with expression of shock and disbelief. He paused there for a moment to study the woman who had just tossed him to the floor, and then he got up with a scowl and charged her with every intention of doing her harm. The moment he was within arm’s reach of Mary, she stuck out her right arm and pushed him away. Kenneth flew across the room, bounced off the far wall and then fell to the floor.

“What—what are you?” Kenneth huffed out in surprise and disbelief.

Just as he spoke, Mary’s eyes began to shimmer with reflected light. Excitement and fear had her tensed for a fight. Her breathing became labored and her heart was beating at an accelerated pace.

“I’m getting the police,” Kenneth grumbled as he got up from the floor.

With his eyes wide from shock and disbelief, Kenneth ran for the bedroom doorway. Just as he reached the opening, Mary grabbed him by the neck, lifted him off the floor with one arm and pinned him against the door frame. She hissed and bared her newly form fangs. Kenneth was shocked by the quickly protruding canines and began struggling against her hold on him with no success. Suddenly, Mary reached up with her other hand, grabbed Kenneth by the head and then pulled him down until his neck was in the grip of her bite. Kenneth screamed as he tried to fight off the assault. Mary quickly brought him down to the floor while she sucked out the blood flowing from the tear in his carotid artery. Before a minute had passed, Kenneth’s struggling stopped as his consciousness faded. Two minutes later, he was dead.

For a second time in one day, Mary backed away from a killing she had done and wondered what she should do. She quickly concluded that Kenneth had to be turned to minimize the wrath of his mother. After biting into her palm and feeding him her blood, Mary carried Kenneth to his old room and laid him out on the bed. When she finished doing that, Mary took the time to think about the possible consequences of what she had done. She feared that her actions were going to interfere with Tony McGuire’s plans, and she knew that he had the potential for inflicting severe punishments to anyone who inconvenienced him.

Motivated by her fear of Tony’s displeasure, Mary considered calling Lola for help, but she did not have Mary’s new cellphone number memorized and her own cellphone was back at her house. She shortly backed away from that idea. She told herself that she had time and that the call to Lola could wait until she returned home. The last thing she wanted to do at this time was leave Sarah’s side. What Mary did not know at that moment was that Lola had spent much of the day trying to call her.


	25. This is Your Life

It was shortly after sunset, Sunday evening, when Tony and company arrived at Jeremiah’s home. Malcolm and Ben were at the stash house standing guard. Lola and Charlie left Jeremiah’s home to collect Paula Cross and Mary Thistle. Jeremiah and Keegan went to collect Patricia Boyd. They found the address and the keys to her apartment in the purse that Jeremiah took from her and stored in his desk drawer. Tony elected to wait inside Jeremiah’s house so that someone would be there if Patricia or Mary turned up or called. He was there alone for nearly two hours when Lola and Charlie returned to the house with Paula in tow.

“Whose house is this,” Paula asked nervously as she walked through the front doorway.

“It’s a friend’s house, babe,” Charlie returned as he ushered Paula into the living room and to a seat on the sofa.

Tony watched their exchange with a look of annoyance. He had already noted that Mary was not in their company, and his patience was low because of it. He wanted to know where all these loose vampires were and who they were talking to.

“Are they like us?” Paula queried as she settled onto the sofa.

“Yeah, babe,” Charlie returned. “We’re all the same here.”

“Charlie?” Tony snapped. “Who has she been talking to?”

“No one, boss,” Charlie promptly answered. “I told you, Paula knows how to keep a secret.”

Tony gave Paula a severe study for several seconds, and then turned away to confront Lola.

“Where’s Mary?” Tony asked in a stern voice.

“She wasn’t at home,” Lola tentatively answered with a shrug.

“What do you mean, she wasn’t at home? Where did she go?” Tony challenges with a glare.

“I don’t know where she went,” Lola returned with a touch of defiance.

“Are you sure she wasn’t in the house?” Tony queried in a demanding tone.

Lola knew that Tony was considering the possibility that Mary might be dead inside her house or even hiding. That was a thought that she and Charlie considered when they went around to the rear of the house and busted the back door open and went inside Mary’s home.

“We went inside,” Lola returned stridently. “She wasn’t there.”

“She’s your friend. Where is she?” Tony challenged angrily.

“Until a couple of days ago, Mary and I talked two or three times a year,” Lola responded defensively. “I don’t know who Mary’s friends are now.”

“We have to find her,” Tony insisted. 

“She knows not to tell anyone about—all of this,” Lola assured with a gesture of her hands.

“Really? Just like you didn't tell anyone,” Tony returned sarcastically. “Have you tried her cellphone?” He growled after a pause.

“Yeah! She’s not answering—I left messages,” Lola returned with a flustered delivery.

Lola had made several attempts to call Mary since her departure from the stash house, but each of her calls were made with someone else’s cellphone or Jeremiah’s landline phone. A concern that she did not disclose to Tony was that there was a possibility that Mary might call her. Lola had no wish to tell Tony about the cellphone that Mary purchased for her. She wanted a means of communication that Tony had no knowledge of.

“Son of a bitch!” Tony screamed at no one in particular. “The cops, the FBI—hell, the National Guard could be out there scouring the city for us right now. We have to keep this a secret,” he finished with a glare toward Lola.

“She won’t tell,” Lola insisted without raising her voice. “I know Mary, she’s not going to go public with this,” she emphasized.

Tony was not relieved by Lola’s promise. The sensation of not being in control was high on his list of things that made him angry to the point of violence. He had just started to pace when the sound of car parking outside caught his attention.

“It’s Jeremiah and Keegan,” Charlie reported from his place at the front window. “They’ve got someone with them—a girl.”

“Good,” Tony grumbled. “The last thing I need is more bad news.”

Charlie went to the front door and held it open as the trio entered one behind the other. Patricia was the first to enter the house. She stopped just inside the perimeter of the living room and looked at the faces of everyone there. She was comforted by the sight of Lola and intrigued by the presence of Tony.

“I remember you,” Patricia spoke with sass. “You’re the other asshole who had me chained in the basement.”

“Yeah, and if you run away again, I’ll do more than that,” a grouchy Tony warned.

“I’d like to see you try,” Patricia brazenly countered while taking a defiant stance.

“What did you say to me?” Tony roared out as he took an angry step toward the petite vampire that dared to talk back to him.

“Hold on, boss,” Keegan called out as he stepped forward to check Tony’s advance. “She didn’t mean anything by it.”

Tony fumed at Patricia for a moment.

“You need to understand one thing,” Tony growled at Patricia. “All of you need to understand,” he continued with a glance around the room. “I call the shots here.”

No one challenged Tony’s commandment, and a moment of silent obeisance followed behind his announcement.

“What is this?” Paula meekly queried into the silence.

“This is nothing to you,” Tony testily asserted. “You just need to be still and quiet,” he continued with an angry scowl.

“Don’t talk to her that way,” Charlie grumbled out as he took a step forward.

Tony was surprised by the swiftness of Charlie’s reaction and promptly drew back his testy appearance and tossed up his hands in mock resignation.

“Fine,” Tony continued with a hint of a smile. “We’re all friends,” he emphasized to Paula. “We’re allies,” he finished with a wider smile.

“Bedfellows,” Jeremiah jumped in verbally as he gazed at Patricia.

“Yuck,” Patricia exclaimed while moving further back into Keegan’s shadow and doubling over in disgust.

Patricia had been keeping her distance from Jeremiah from the moment they got out of the car. When they entered the house, she was steadfast in her effort to keep Keegan in between her and him. She was ever aware of Jeremiah’s stare following her around the room. In Patricia’s mind Jeremiah was always a creepy person, but at that moment she was experiencing sensations that were incompatible with her strong dislike of him. Jeremiah’s comment about bedfellows was the straw that turned her internal conflict into words.

“Why do I have these icky feelings whenever I’m near him?” Patricia boisterously queried with a point toward Jeremiah.

“He’s your maker,” Tony answered with a hint of exasperation. “Vampires and their progenitors have some kind of… pheromone connection that causes us to sense each other’s thoughts, feelings and emotions.”

“You’re my mate,” Jeremiah asserted with a wide smile.

“No, I’m not,” Patricia sharply contradicted. “And stay away from me, creep.”

“Okay, this is something we can deal with later,” an annoyed Tony interjected dismissively. “For now, I need you to stay here,” he directed with a point at Patricia.

“I’m not staying here alone with him,” Patricia disputed with a shake of her head.

“You don’t have to,” Tony instantly countered, “Jeremiah, you’re coming with me,” he continued with indifference. 

“What?” Jeremiah loudly challenged.

“Charlie, you’re coming too,” Tony went on while ignoring Jeremiah’s outburst. “It’s time to start pushing the merchandise. This is a distraction. Keegan, you stay here and keep an eye on things—no more adventures.”

“I can do that,” Keegan happily agreed.

“I’m not one of your soldiers,” Jeremiah loudly declared right after Keegan spoke. “Why can't I stay here?” Jeremiah asked in a loud and pleading voice.

“It's because you're not a soldier that I want you in the stash house,” Tony angrily grumbled. “I need you running the garage. I want that crew to finish cutting, bagging and tagging by the end of the night, and I need you tallying the numbers.”

“Charlie can do that,” Jeremiah bellowed with a defiant step toward Tony.

“That’s not Charlie’s job,” Tony yelled back. “I want you to do it.” 

For a moment it looked like Tony and Jeremiah were going to fight. A low growl seemed to be trapped in their throats during an intense standoff between them. After a few seconds of silent staring, Jeremiah relaxed his posture and took a step back.

“Mickey is rounding up dealers,” Tony asserted after the pause. “They’re coming in first thing tomorrow. We need to be ready.”

Tony’s plan was to distribute much of the cocaine that he had by the start of rush hour Monday morning.

“It’s time for the streets of New York to learn that we’re the boss,” Tony declared as he looked around into the faces of everyone there. “This puppy love shit can wait,” he continued with a stern look at Jeremiah. “I need you working the girls. I want all of it cut, bagged and tagged by the end of the night. You got that?”

“I’ll take care of it,” Jeremiah acquiesced with a shrug.

“This is just the beginning,” Tony continued speaking with enthusiasm in his voice. “When we’re done taking over Manhattan’s cocaine trade, we’re going to add on some more soldiers—vampire soldiers, and then we’re going to take over all of New York. I’m talking cocaine, heroin, prostitution, extortion, gambling. We’re going to run the gangs and we’re going to own the cops.”

Charlie was supportive of Tony’s plan and showed it with gung-ho exaltation of “Yeah.” Most of the others appeared to be quietly accepting of the plan for lack of a reason to opposed it. Lola was indifferent to Tony’s plans, but she did think he was drunk with power, and she was sure he had not thought his scheme all the way through.

“Are you sure making more vampires is a good idea?” Lola tentatively asked.

“Absolutely!” Tony returned with zeal. “We're going to be an army. An unstoppable army,” he continued with exhalation. “This is just the beginning for us, babe,” he finished with a smile.

Tony's words did not dispel Lola's concern. As Tony, Jeremiah and Charlie took off for the stash house, Lola silently wondered where this new adventure would end.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“So, are you and Tony, and those other guys—like—criminals?” Patricia asked inquisitively.

Patricia was standing in the kitchen when she asked Keegan that question. They chose that location to talk because Lola and Paula were watching a program on the television in the living room. She and Keegan might have also chosen the television as a distraction to while away the time were it not for their interest in each other. 

“Tony is a businessman,” Keegan quickly asserted. “He owns an auto dealership and a couple of repair shops.”

“So, you work for him?” Patricia asked as though unimpressed.

“Sometimes,” Keegan answered. “Mostly I work for Jerry.”

Patricia immediately took offense to the sound of Jeremiah’s name. Instinctively, she took a step back and folded her arms.

“Ooh. What do you do for him?” Patricia inquired with an intonation of detest.

Keegan put next to no thought into the question and answered with a word, “Construction.”

“Construction?” Patricia questioned as though she was surprised by the answer. “You mean like building houses and things?”

“Yeah, but it’s mostly refurbishing,” Keegan returned with a shrug.

Patricia gave Keegan’s answer a moment of thought. Her expression clearly showed that she found something in his answer confusing.

“So, what does refurbishing have to do with cutting, bagging and tagging?” Patricia challenged with a bewildered frown.

“Well, I do the odd job every now and then—for the extra money,” Keegan reluctantly expounded.

“And I bet those odd jobs pay well,” Patricia playfully suggested.

“As a rule, yes,” Keegan confessed without reservation. “Otherwise, they wouldn’t be worth the trouble,” he continued less resolutely. 

“So, running down escaped slave girls is one of your odd jobs?” Patricia smugly questioned.

“Technically, I was there to watch Jerry’s back just in case he ran into some trouble,” Keegan promptly corrected.

Once again, Jeremiah’s name spoiled the conversation for Patricia, and she took a defiant stance in response.

“So, I’m just Jeremiah’s property to you?” Patricia testily queried.

Keegan was slightly amused by Patricia’s peeved reaction. He briefly gave her a hint of a smile, and then his eyes began looking down over her body. Seconds later he tilted his head left then right to get a better view of her. After a few seconds more of examining Patricia from a distance, Keegan stepped forward, took her by the hand and slowly twirled her about as though they were on a dance floor.

Patricia was mildly amused and excessively intrigued by his action. Her suspicion was that he was looking at her tattoos, and she had no objection to him taking her by the hand. She accepted his lead with an eagerness to see where it was going. Several seconds into this little dance, Patricia brought it to a stop by pulling her hand away and crossing her arms again.

“What are you looking for?” Patricia asked with an amused haughtiness.

“I was looking to see if you had Jerry’s named tattooed on you somewhere,” Keegan casually returned.

Patricia’s amusement grew out into a full-blown smile in response to Keegan’s explanation. Just the same, she maintained her imperious stance.

“I don’t tattoo boys names on my body,” Patricia proudly proclaimed. “I don’t believe in belonging to someone,” she added with accented arrogance. “But I’m not above forming attachments,” she finished while dropping her hands down to her hips and taking a teasing pose.

Keegan took a moment to ogle the pretty little vampire, and then he quickly stepped forward, snatched her up into his arms and began kissing her passionately. Patricia instantly reciprocated by throwing her arms around Keegan’s neck and her legs around his hips. After several seconds of clutching and kissing, Keegan took Patricia by the hand and raced off for the closest bedroom.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

While Patricia and Keegan were in the kitchen talking, Lola and Paula were in the living room pretending to be listening to the television. The conversation in the kitchen was far more to their interest, but not even Patricia and Keegan’s flirtatious banter was enough to mitigate Lola’s boredom and Paula’s fears.

“We’re not really—vampires, are we?” Paula questioned with a worried tone. “I mean, vampires aren’t real.”

“Yeah, well we’re something,” Lola returned with sass. “Because I’m definitely not what I was a few days ago.”

“What do mean?” Paula asked with continued worry.

“I lost thirty years—not to mention thirty pounds,” Lola answered as if speaking what was obvious to see.

“Yeah, me too, but—but vampire?” Paula challenged with a hint of disbelief.

“Vampire, zombie, gargoyle, tooth fairy, I don’t care. I am not complaining,” Lola tossed out with indifference. “Why? Do you want to go back to the way you were?”

“No,” Paula mused out after a moment of thought. “It does feel—good, I mean—really good,” she reported with a laugh. “I’m just worried something bad is going to happen. I mean vampires are monsters, aren’t they?”

“Hey, you were definitely coming to a bad end when you were human,” Lola humorously tossed out. “Tony told me that the vampire that turned him was more than two-thousand years old. I don’t see a downside here. Stop worrying.” 

Lola’s instruction had no effect on Paula. It was clear from her expression that something about her situation was worrying to her.

“Two-thousand years,” Paula echoed somberly.

In the middle of Paula’s brooding contemplation, Keegan and Patricia ran up the stairs and into the guest bedroom.

“That didn’t take long,” Lola mused. “I think Jerry may be in for a surprise.”

“What do you mean?” Paula questioned with a modest intonation of intrigue.

“Oh, it’s just something Tony told me,” Lola answered dismissively.

“What?” Paula softly asked with a mix of insistence and curiosity.

“He said something about female vampires switching partners after sex with another male vampire,” Lola casually explained.

“So, it is true that we’re—vampires,” Paula concluded with reluctance.

“It seems so,” Lola confirmed. “But Tony said the person who turned him called himself an immortal.”

“Yeah, but we drink blood,” Paula meekly disputed. “Doesn’t that make us vampires?”

Paula gave Lola a look that said she dreaded to hear the answer. Lola noticed the worry in Paula’s face and considered her response carefully.

“Well Tony says that they had a lot of names for beings like us two-thousand years ago,” Lola answered as diplomatically as she could “l wouldn’t put any store in those folktales.”

Both women paused to reflect on their conversation.

“But aren’t there vampires in the Bible?” Paula cautiously asked with a look toward Lola.

“I don’t think so,” Lola answered with a shake of her head.

“But there are demons in the Bible?” Paula asked with fear in her voice. “And that’s what we are, isn’t it?”

Lola noted Paula’s uneasy interest in this subject and turned to look at her with an expression of assurance while trying to address and dispel her fear.

“But we’re not demons,” Lola spoke with soft insistence. “We’re—immortals,” she finished with a brief search for the appropriate word. 

Paula was surprised by Lola’s last remark, and she scrunched her face into a dubious expression.

“So, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with turning humans into what we are?” Paula asked with an anxious look. “I mean, you don’t think it’s like a sin against God?”

“No,” Lola insisted with a shake her head. “Not if they want to be like us. We’re not demons,” she added with greater assertion. “Don’t you feel like the same person in your head?” Lola questioned with finality. 

Paula pondered Lola’s reply before responding with, “yeah, I guess.”

“Don’t over think it,” Lola instructed with concern.

Lola knew that Paula’s interest in the idea that they were vampires was motivated by her religious belief. She could see that Paula was thinking hard about what she said and promptly decided to let her think in silence, and she settled back into the sofa to watch the program on the television. A few minutes later, the sounds of Patricia and Keegan having sex began resounding over the talking coming from the TV. The combination of the silence between her and Paula, the boring television program she was watching and the sounds of Patricia and Keegan having sex motivated Lola to stand up.

“Okay, that’s it,” Lola proclaimed as she hurried off to the stairwell and on to the second level.

Paula had no time to question Lola about what she meant by “that’s it” or what she was about to do. Her initial thought was that Lola was going up to the bedroom that Keegan and Patricia were in to confront them about the noise, but when Lola went into a different bedroom, Paula surmised that she was up to something else. Paula’s interest in what Lola was doing doubled when she heard her disappear into the bedroom across the hall from the one Keegan and Patricia occupied. She tried to hear what Lola was doing in the room, but between the television and Keegan and Patricia’s foreplay, she heard little of Lola’s movements. When Lola came back down to the living room more than ten minutes later, Paula immediately understood exactly what Lola had been doing.

“Are you leaving?” Paula instinctively asked in response to Lola’s change of clothing.

“I’m going out for a little while,” Lola instructed as though making a routine departure. “I’ll be back before sunrise.”

Lola was wearing the sleeveless, floral print mini dress and matching open toed wedge sandals with black clutch purse that Mary bought for her.

“Where are you going?” Paula asked with surprise.

“I’m not sure,” Lola answered while looking around for a pencil and paper.

Lola found a pencil and pad of paper next to the telephone. She hurried and wrote her cell phone number on the pad. Then she stripped off the top paper and extended it toward Paula.

“Here’s my cellphone number. If you need me or something happens while I’m gone, call me at this number,” Lola hurriedly advised.

“Okay,” Paula agreed while taking the paper with a look that said she was confused.

After Paula took the paper, she watched with worry as Lola turned away and brazenly left the house. She was not worried that Lola would suffer any serious reprimand from Tony; her hold on his affection was obvious. What worried Paula was that she was alone again. 

Paula had spent much of the previous four nights alone, and the only company she received was Charlie. When Paula awakened as a vampire Wednesday night, she found Charlie sitting at her bedside. At first, she was dazed and confused, but her memory soon returned and the attack by Charlie quickly rushed into her memory. Her first clear thought was to run, but her body was too weak to do anything strenuous. She gave up on that thought when it became clear to her that Charlie wanted to help her and not hurt her.

After enduring Charlie’s prolonged apology and extensive plea for forgiveness, Paula allowed him to help her dress to leave and find treatment for her injuries. At the time, she believed he was taking her to a hospital or a doctor. He had repeatedly assured her that he was taking her to get her injuries treated. While she was preparing to leave, she learned from the messages on her cellphone that a whole day had passed. That knowledge caused her to be even more concerned about her injuries, and Charlie’s refusal to let her contact any of her friends or family caused her to think again that he was going to kill her. But Charlie ended that train of thought by declaring his love and devotion to her and by repeating the argument that he could have killed her and dumped her body any time over the past 24 hours.

Now believing that Charlie was trying to help and keep her friends in the dark about what he had done, Paula took his arm and followed his lead. She relaxed in Charlie’s car and closed her eyes to wait out the ride to the hospital. When she found herself at the apartment complex where Charlie lived, Paula’s trepidation returned in full force.

“Babe, I’m not going to hurt you in my apartment,” Charlie quickly argued in his defense. “If I was going to hurt you, I would have done it already. You know that.”

His logic quickly made sense to her, so she gambled on Charlie’s assurance that the cure for her weakened condition was upstairs in his apartment. She followed him into his apartment and discovered a cure she never would have guessed.

“You’re hungry, babe, that’s all. You just have to eat something to build up your strength.”

That statement was not shocking to Paula, but the food he wanted her to eat was. Paula could not imagine herself eating raw meat. She seldom ate cooked meat. Mentally, she was revulsed by the idea of eating raw flesh, but her sense of smell shortly overruled her resistance. Before she knew what she was doing, Paula found herself devouring four raw steaks. While she fed herself, Charlie explained that she had been turned into a vampire. That information barely registered while she ate, but it quickly gained weight when she finished.

Mentally, Paula fought the idea that she was a vampire, but the evidence kept mounting over the next two hours. She could feel the change within her, and Charlie’s demonstrations of his strength and extreme recuperative capability were extremely convincing. The memory of Charlie’s fangs and the light reflecting off his eyes helped to convince her that she had been turned, but it was their hour-long copulation at the end of his narrative that finalized her belief in what she was.

After their congress, Charlie devoted more than half an hour convincing Paula that she could not leave the apartment or tell anyone about what she had become. He stressed upon her that she would be jailed just for being what she was and that her jailers would never let her go free. He instilled a fear in her of everyone who was not like them, and he left with the promise of returning the following night.

Charlie kept his promise and returned Thursday night, and Paula kept her promise to say nothing and go nowhere despite her desire for security and comfort from friends and family. Charlie’s late-night visit repeated the routine of food and sex, but on Friday and Saturday nights all she got were calls filled with promises of his return. It was those lonely nights with nothing to do that caused Paula’s fear of being alone. She was convinced that her situation was perilous and that humans would arrest or kill her on sight. It did not help that she did not know what Charlie was doing when he was not there, and her biggest fear was that he might never return.

Lola’s sudden departure renewed Paula’s fear of being alone. She enjoyed the assurance that she felt when someone was around to say everything was okay. Lola’s confidence and presence were comforting to her, but now that she was gone Paula was left with only the sounds of Keegan and Patricia copulating to ensure her that she was not alone. Their distant moans and grunts were weak replacements for someone to talk to, and their silence was far worse.

About forty minutes after Lola left, Paula stopped hearing anything from the bedroom that Keegan and Patricia occupied. Motivated by curiosity, she turned off the television and listened for activity within the room, but her vampire ears detected nothing. The absence of sound heightened her insecurity, and she hurried to the bedroom door to listen from the other side. When she continued to hear nothing from inside the room, she opened the door for a peek. With no surprise to her, and slightly to her relief, she saw Keegan and Patricia naked in bed and sleeping like the dead.

Paula had no doubt that Patricia and Keegan fell asleep from exhaustion, but it was her suspicion that they would sleep through the night and all the next day. The thought of being alone for the fifth night in a row made her angry for the first time. She was uneasy and frightened during the previous nights. Ever since Charlie turned her into a vampire, her life was about nothing but silence and seclusion. That was a 180-degree change from the life she had before. During the past two evenings, she resisted urges to go visit a friend or her brother, but this sudden abandonment by her new acquaintances gave that urge a new level of strength. She was also emboldened by Lola’s departure and the stories of how Charlie, Ben and Jeremiah had defied Tony’s orders and went off alone. She soon believed that if others could get away with it, then she could too. Nearly an hour after she looked in on Patricia and Keegan, Paula had sufficiently fortified her nerve with self-talk to leave and visit her brother.


	26. Bright Lights, Big City

It was approaching 11pm, Sunday night, and Lola had been strolling along the streets of Queens for more than two hours in the stylish new clothing that Mary Thistle purchased for her. With the sun below the horizon and the air noticeably cooler, the walk was invigorating to her new vampire body. She wandered provocatively along the sidewalks of the streets at an easy pace. She noticed the people and places that she passed while turning heads along the way. Lola had no idea where she was going or exactly what she was looking for, but she did know it had to be something that would alleviate her boredom. She shortly came across a sports bar that looked suitably distracting.

Oscar’s Sports Bar was nothing fancy to look at on the outside. It was not a large sports bar, and it was situated at the corner of the intersection of a large thoroughfare and a small side street. Next to it on the side street was a laundromat. A pizza parlor was next to it on the thoroughfare. Several towering apartment complexes were visible along the thoroughfare on either side and along the smaller streets behind the thoroughfare. A large grocery store was located across the intersection from the sports bar, with a pharmacy and a fitness center fixed within the same complex. A KFC was stationed across the side street from the sports bar and a bodega was on the other side of the pizza parlor. What made the sports bar stand out for Lola was the large amount of pedestrian activity that was going on in the vicinity. Its function as a social gathering spot made it stand out in Lola’s mind as the hub for all the activity, and so she went in.

The interior of the bar was attractive without being excessively flashy. Five large TV monitors attached high on the walls were airing five different sporting events. More than a dozen patrons were watching the games on varying screens, but most were watching the baseball game on the center most monitor in the room. The outnumbered the women three to one in the bar. Lola cautiously walked inside and moved slowly along the perimeter of the room away from the bar. She glanced the games on the monitors with indifference while panning the occupants of the bar. When she came to a small vacant table along the room’s perimeter, Lola took a seat with her back to the wall.

“What can I get you?” A waitress asked several seconds after Lola sat down.

“A gin and tonic,” Lola spoke up so that the waitress could hear.

The waitress went off to retrieve the drink requested, and Lola sat back in her chair to wait and scan the room, the TV monitors and their viewers. Lola’s entry into the sports bar did not go unnoticed. She caught the admiring glances of several men as she moved around the room, and she held on to the stare of one as she sat. After a few minutes, the waitress returned with her gin and tonic and offered her a dinner menu. Lola declined the menu and paid for the drink with the money she acquired from Mary. Lola continued to scan the room and its occupants while she ignored her drink. It took less than a minute after receiving her drink for her constant admirer walked over to her table.

“You alone?” Jay Morrison asked when he stopped in front of Lola’s table.

Jay Morrison was a tall roughhewn looking man who looked to be in his early forties and long past physically fit.

“So far,” Lola playfully responded to Jay Morrison inquiry. 

“Can I join you?” Jay bluntly asked.

“Please do,” Lola pleasantly returned with a smile.

Jay was pleased to hear Lola’s response, and he eagerly sat in the chair opposite from her.

“The names Jay,” he announced proudly.

“Lola,” Lola called back over the raucous in the bar.

“Lola, I like it,” Jay declared loudly. “So, what are you drinking, Lola?”

“I’m not,” Lola returned dismissively. “I’m just looking at it.”

“You don’t drink?” Jay questioned slightly confused.

“Not anymore,” Lola replied without a care for his confusion. “It depresses the senses, and I prefer to keep my senses sharp now days.”

“Is that right?” Jay returned with suspicion.

“Yes, this is the new me,” Lola answered with a noticeable amount of amusement in her voice. “When I’m having a good time, I want to feel—everything.”

“So, are sports your thing, Lola?” Jay asked.

“Not particularly. I’m here for the company,” Lola casually answered. “I was bored,” she finished after a pause.

“The company?” Jay questioned with suspicion.

“Yes, the company,” Lola pleasantly reiterated with a smile. “I’m enjoying the excitement.”

Jay gave the attractive woman in front of him a brief study. His suspicion was now evident on his face. He looked at Lola with a stare and a smile that suggested he thought her to be less than a lady. 

“Bullshit,” Jay suddenly spouted with a laugh. “You’re a hooker.”

Lola was visibly annoyed by the assumption. For a second, her pleasant demeanor transformed into a sulky stare, and then it changed into a smirk. Lola concluded that Jay had given her license to dislike him.

“Is that right, Jay?” Lola questioned with a faint smile. “Is that written on my forehead?” 

“Don’t play games with me, kitten,” Jay countered testily. “What’s your price?” 

Lola briefly laughed at Jay. She was clearly amused.

“That’s a good question, Jay,” Lola responded with a smile. “How much would you say I’m worth?”

“Forty,” Jay quickly tossed out in a brusque manner. “And I’m being generous.”

“Wow, Jay, you really know how to bruise a girl’s ego,” Lola returned with a mildly amused expression. “I’m sure I can get better than that from someone else in a nice fat bar like this.”

“Okay, fifty,” Jay returned with a shrug. “But that’s as high as I go, kitten.”

Lola paused to laugh once again.

“Keep your money, Jay,” Lola snidely responded. “I think I’ll hold out for a real man.” 

Jay’s face took on a look of anger that was motivated by Lola’s rebuke of his offer.

“I’m the most man in here, not that it matters to a hooker,” Jay angrily replied while leaning forward over the table. “And since when does a slut care who she fucks?”

Lola sneered at Jay. His words brought her to a new height of enmity, and she could not stop herself from momentarily showing it on her face.

“I never said I was a working girl, Jay,” Lola haughtily challenged. “You did,” she finished with disdain.

“You don’t have to say it,” Jay snidely countered. “You wouldn’t be in here alone and not drinking if you weren’t a hooker. So, what’s your price?”

“I’m not selling, Jay,” Lola casually returned. “I’m shopping.”

“Shopping for what?” Jay quickly asked in a commanding tone.

“A good time, of course, Jay,” Lola softly returned with a smile and a shrug.

“Well hell, kitten, if it’s a good time you want, then I’m your man,” Jay gleefully assured.

Lola paused to give Jay a perusal out the slits of her eyes.

“You know, Jay, I think you may be right,” Lola spoke with a look of satisfaction.

Just as she finished speaking, Lola got up from her chair and shouldered her purse.

“Okay, Jay, show me what you’ve got,” Lola smugly suggested.

Jay was quick to oblige Lola’s request. He quickly got up from his seat and led Lola out of the sports bar and to his apartment complex a short walk away. Jay spoke very little during their walk and the things he did say were variations of bravados to his virility. Lola said nothing at all during their walk. She placidly followed Jay’s lead. After a walk that lasted several minutes, they arrived at the door of Jay’s apartment. Jay quickly opened the door and Lola walked through.

“This is it, kitten,” Jay announced as he flipped on the overhead living room light.

Lola looked around the room as Jay closed and locked the door. As she turned back toward Jay, she found him grabbing for her with both hands. Lola quickly stiffed armed him while taking a step back.

“You said you wanted to have a good time,” Jay complained as he grabbed Lola’s arm and attempted to pull her in close. “So, let’s get to it.”

“Maybe I changed my mind,” Lola returned with a smile and while taking two more steps back.

“Don’t play games,” Jay insisted as he grappled against Lola’s resistance to his advances.

“Why not?” Lola countered with an amused smile. “I like playing games.”

Jay was visibly angered by Lola’s remark about playing games. He stopped trying to pull Lola in for a kiss and fumed at her.

“Bitch, I didn’t bring you here to waste my time,” Jay roared as he reached out with his right hand and violently grabbed Lola’s left arm.

“And I didn’t come here to fuck you,” Lola growled in return while grabbing Jay by the neck.

The surprising speed and power of Lola’s assault pushed Jay off balance. An instant later, she spun Jay around until he was facing the door to the apartment. Then she shoved him hard, causing him to stumble backwards and crash into the wall.

“You bitch,” Jay roared as he came off the wall and started for Lola with his right hand balled into a fist.

Just as Jay readied his right arm for a punch, Lola reached out with her left hand and grabbed his arm at the wrist. In that same instant, she used her right hand to grab Jay by the neck. She then lifted him off the floor, did a half pirouette and threw him several feet across the room. Jay landed on a coffee table and rolled to the floor. He pushed his torso up off the floor and looked at Lola with shock and fear in his eyes.

“Are we having fun yet, Jay?” Lola asked with a smile.

Jay looked about and spotted a pair of scissors on an end table. He quickly got up on his knees and took the scissors into his right hand as though it was dagger. Before he could get to his feet, Lola grabbed the arm with the scissors with her left hand and grabbed Jay by the throat with her right. Almost immediately, Jay tried to use his free hand to pry Lola’s grip from his throat. He noticed the glee in Lola’s expression along with light reflecting off her eyes. After a few seconds of trying to dislodge Lola’s hand from his throat, Jay reached out with his left hand and grabbed Lola by the throat. An instant later, Lola responded by doubling the pressure of her grip onto Jay’s throat. Jay instantly released his hold on Lola’s throat and went back to trying to pry her hand away from his. After a few seconds more, his efforts became desperate. Garbled sounds began to come out of his mouth, and his eyes went wide with fear.

Lola relished the moment more than she expected. Jay’s closeness filled her olfactory receptors with the smell of his blood. She continued squeezing Jay’s neck while her fangs began to protrude from between her lips. For a long moment, she entertained the thought of feeding on Jay’s blood. She was an instant away from biting into his neck when the thought of Tony’s reaction popped into her mind. After a moment of thought, Lola backed her head away from Jay’s throat, she noted for the first time that he was barely conscious. When she released him from her grip, Jay flopped onto the floor and began gasping for air.

“How was that, kitten?” Lola playfully queried. “Was it good for you?”

After taking a moment to appreciate her work, Lola reached down and pulled Jay’s wallet out of his pants pocket, extracted all the money from it and tossed the wallet on the floor. She then retrieved her purse from the floor and left the apartment with Jay just beginning to push his torso up onto his elbows.

Lola left Jay’s apartment with an additional $360.00 in her purse and in high spirits. Her little tussle with Jay was greatly amusing to her. Lola was so entertained by her little adventure with Jay that she had thoughts of doing it again with someone else, but a concern that had been nagging at her took precedence. So, she went back to the boulevard, jumped into a cab and directed the driver to convey her to Mary Thistle’s address.

Just before 1am, Lola arrived at Mary’s home. The house was dark and there was no answer to Lola’s numerous knocks and rings at the front door. Lola was now thinking that some harm may have come to Mary after she left the house during the day. That brought her around to the possibility that Mary might return at some time during the night. After a brief debate with herself, Lola decided to wait for Mary. She then went around to the rear of the house and entered through busted back door.

Lola spent the next several minutes searching the house from top to bottom. Mary was not in the house and she could find no information about where she went to. When she gave up on her search, Lola took a seat in the living room and began thinking about what she should do next. She thought to call some of Mary’s friends, but she did not know who most of them were now or their phone numbers. Shortly into this thinking, Lola pulled out her own cellphone and dialed out to Mary in the hope that she would answer this time. When the report from her cellphone told her that Mary’s cellphone was ringing, Lola was surprised to hear a corresponding ring coming from upstairs. She quickly raced up to Mary’s bedroom and found the cellphone on the floor.

Lola was shocked to find Mary’s cellphone in the house. She wondered what could have happen to separate Mary from her cellphone, and then she realized that Mary was not ignoring her calls. She also considered the idea that Mary could not call her because she had not memorized her new cellphone number. Both of those possibilities brought Lola to the supposition that Mary might not be far away, and that her return would likely occur during the night. With that thought in her head, Lola settled in for a wait.

It was going on 5am when Lola decided to give up on her wait for Mary. She knew that Tony would be angry if she was not in the house when he returned, and she estimated that there was just enough time by cab to get back to Jeremiah’s before sunrise. After calling for a cab, Lola returned Mary’s cellphone to her bed-stand so that she could easily find it when and if she returned. A few minutes later, her cab was honking in front of the house.

When Lola arrived in front of Jeremiah’s house a several minutes later, the sun was just peaking over the horizon, and the Monday morning rush hour traffic had barely started. A few houses on the block were lit up with activity, but there were no pedestrians moving on the block. Everything looked as it should for an early Monday morning, but there was an audible disturbance somewhere in the vicinity that quickly captured Lola’s attention.

As soon as Lola opened the cab door, her sharp hearing locked in on a ruckus coming from inside Jeremiah’s house. It sounded to her as if two or more individuals inside the house were arguing at the top of their lungs. The commotion was not so great that it was likely to awaken the whole block, but it did sound significant enough to get the attentions of the next-door neighbors. With a worry that the noise might draw attention to the house, Lola hurried up to the front door and discovered it was locked. That was no surprise to her. She locked the door behind her when she left. Lola was counting on someone being there to let her in, and she quickly went to ringing the bell for just that purpose. She gave up on that plan when the sound of cussing and fighting had reached a level that made her think it was urgent that she get inside fast. With a sharp shove with her vampire strength, Lola busted the lock and propelled the door open. She then raced through the doorway and hurried to where the arguing was coming from, the kitchen. By the time Lola got to the kitchen entrance the shouting was over. The ruckus she heard moments earlier had transitioned into a relative calm, but what she saw was so disturbing it produced a reactionary verbal inquiry from her.

“What the fuck did you do?”


	27. The Cross Siblings

Paula arrived at the front door of Russell Cross’s apartment almost an hour and a quarter after leaving Jeremiah’s home. Russell was her younger brother by eight years, and he was her closes friend. At the age of twelve she took on much of the duties of raising Russell in the absence of their recently deceased mother. Their bond to each other was tight. During the day Russell was a 34-year-old Medical Lab Technician at a local hospital. At night he was a wannabe guitarist with no great aptitude for the profession. It was more a hobby than serious endeavor, and it was just one of two activities that he participated in with his many friends. Getting high and intoxicated was the second activity that Russell commonly enjoyed with friends.

“Hi, little brother,” Paula greeted just before stepping across the threshold of his apartment doorway and giving him a hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Hey, Sis, this is a surprise,” Russell greeted with a sleepy gaze.

Russell’s surprise was due to the hour. Paula’s knock on his door awakened him from a sleep induced by a meal that consisted of two large hamburgers, fries and three 16oz cans of beer. The marijuana he smoked an hour before the meal was responsible for much of his appetite.

“I needed to see you,” Paula spoke in replied to Russell’s comment.

“Yeah, I gathered that. It’s past eleven. Don’t you have to work tomorrow?” Russell returned as he looked at his sister with a sudden awareness that she was different in some way. “Wait a minute, what’s happening here,” he continued while pulling her under the vestibule light and closing the door.

“I quit my job,” Paula answered.

Russell was shocked by Paula’s report. He had known his sister to be employed since the age of eighteen, a milestone she reached 22 years ago. He could not imagine her without work.

“What? Why?” Russell questioned in shock.

“Something happened,” Paula sullenly returned.

“Is something wrong?” Russell questioned with a worry that his sister might have a health issue.

“No, I’m—okay,” Paula dismissed unconvincingly.

“You look better than okay,” Russell countered as he gave his sister a quick perusal. “You look great.”

Russell was having trouble determining what it was about Paula that was different. He had no doubt that she had lost some weight, but he had seen her lose weight before. What was causing him the most confusion was that she did not appear to be dressed or adorned in any extraordinary fashion. After a moment of thought, he reached for the living room light switch so that he could get a better look at his sister.

“I’m different,” Paula confirmed in a solemn voice.

“Different? Different how?” Russell asked as he flipped on the overhead lamp in the living room.

The light from the overhead lamp in the living room instantly flooded into the narrow vestibule where Russell and Paula were standing.

“You’re not going to believe it,” Paula returned with a hesitantly.

“Wow sis, you’re looking great.” Russell declared after examining his sister in the new light. “What’s happened to you?”

A smile instantly appeared on Paula’s face after Russell’s comment. She had no doubt that her appearance had taken on a more youthful look post her vampire transformation, but Russell’s declaration was the first strongly worded confirmation of it she had heard. Up until that moment, Charlie was the only person to notice the difference in her appearance, and his comments were always muted by indifference driven by anticipation.

“I know. Isn’t it great?” Paula quickly agreed with a wide smile.

Russell was surprised by Paula’s sudden jubilance following so swiftly behind her gloomy demeanor a moment earlier. He immediately wanted to know what was motivating it, but in that moment, he noticed how uncannily young Paula's face looked.

“Well—yeah. What did you do?” Russell asked as he leaned forward to get better look at Paula’s face.

“You remember Charlie, the guy I use to go out with?” Paula questioned.

“Panko, the criminal, yeah I remember him,” Russell responded with a hint of disdain. “What about him?”

“He did this,” Paula softly replied.

“I'm going to need more than that,” Russell advised with a frown.

The thought of telling Russell more than what she already had frightened Paula, but in that moment, she knew he was right. She also knew that telling Russell more is what she had come there to do and that now was the time to do it.

“How would you like to go on a trip?” Paula asked hopefully.

“Is it drugs? Cocaine—H?” Russell asked with an intonation of intrigue. “Because you know I’m always game to try something new.”

Despite Russell’s casual marijuana use, he was not opposed to experimenting with other drugs when he could get his hands on something new and different. Her brother’s infrequent drug use was not new to Paula, but she was quick to see that he had misjudged where she was going. After a moment of thought, she decided to go with drugs as an analogy.

“It’s better,” Paula claimed after a pause.

“Well, what is it?” Russell inquired enthusiastically.

“It’s the ride of a lifetime,” Paula softly assured. “It’s the ride of a thousand lifetimes,” she supported with a vague look of astonishment.

“Well, give me some,” Russell greedily insisted.

“It’s not like that,” Paula responded. “I mean, it’s not what you think. Charlie gave me a gift—a great big gift—and I’m going on a journey, but I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“What are you talking about?” Russell asked with a dumbfounded.

“Russell, how would you like to go on an adventure through time with me and Charlie, and a few others?” Paula questioned with hope and excitement in her voice.

“What are you talking about, Paula?” Russell asked with more insistence.

“I’m talking about us,” Paula vehemently stressed. “You’re my little brother, and I don’t want to leave you behind.”

“How are you going to leave me?” Russell nearly yelled with exasperation.

Paula paused to consider how she should respond. She was tired of dancing around the subject of her vampirism. In her mind, she felt as if she was more than human and better. Her fear now was that her brother would decline the offer because of a belief that she had become a monster. She soon concluded that Russell must not have that option.

“Maybe I should show you,” she gently suggested.

“Show me what?” Russell inquired while his sister moved to within inches of him.

“What are you doing?” Russell asked a moment after he noticed Paula was sniffing the air between them.

“You’ll see,” Paula huffed out between deep breathes.

A few seconds later, Paula’s eyes began to reflect light. Russell noticed the change and released a soft gasp in response. As the seconds ticked on, the light reflecting off Paula’s eyes grew more pronounced. Russell was startled by his sister's gradual transformation. After a few seconds more her canines began to grow into fangs and her fingernails into claws. From Russell's perspective, it looked as if his sister's deep heaving breathes was fueling her transformation. For the first time in his life, he was frightened of his sister, and he took two steps back.

“What's happened to you?” Russell asked with panic in his voice.

“I'm immortal,” Paula explained as she moved a step closer. “And you can be too, Russell.”

“I don't understand. What's wrong with your eyes? How are you doing that?” Russell queried in quick succession.

Paula stepped forward, grabbed Russell by the neck and forced him down on his knees despite his resistance.

“You're hurting me,” Russell complained with an intonation of fear.

“I'm sorry, Russell,” Paula declared with regret in her voice. “But I can’t do this without you. I can’t leave you behind. You'll thank me, I promise. You will.”

Seconds after she spoke, Paula pushed Russell's head to the side, and bit into his carotid artery. Almost immediately, she began siphoning Russell’s blood despite his best effort to fend her off. His struggling declined over the next few minutes, and his heartbeat stopped shortly after that. When Paula was sure that her brother was dead, she bit into the palm of her hand and began feeding her blood into his mouth. When the wound in her palm healed several seconds later, she bit into her palm again and repeated the process. Terrified that she might be doing something wrong, Paula repeated the act for a third time, and then she settled on the floor with Russell's head cradled in her lap.


	28. Keegan and Patricia

It was after 4am Monday morning when the cutting, bagging and tagging was completed at the stash house. Eight women wearing nothing but hospital gowns and slippers, worked through most of the night to package Tony’s cocaine for sell to his dealers. Charlie, Ben and Malcolm stood guard over the building through the night. Mickey Nevers supervised the girls, and Jeremiah managed the operation. Tony stood back and supervised everyone.

When the packaging was done, the eight women redressed in the clothes they arrived in and were paid for their work. They were then led up the basement stairs and into the storage room. They were not allowed to go into any other part of the building to keep them from knowing where they were. They were then led into the back of an unmarked six-wheel delivery van that was situated flush against the loading dock door. They had arrived at the stash house under the same circumstance. The only thing they knew about where they were is that it took them three quarters of an hour to get there from their original starting point.

“I’m leaving,” Jeremiah announced moments before Mickey drove off with the eight women.

“The sun will be up in half an hour,” Tony warned. “Besides, I need you here to help with the selling,” he added in a stern voice.

“You don’t need me for that,” Jeremiah grumbled as he continued to prepare to leave. “I’m out of here.”

“Damn you, Jerry,” Tony yelled at his old friend. “Get your brain out of your dick. The sun is coming up, and we’re not threw here.”

“Hey, I did my part,” Jeremiah roared back at Tony with a furious stare. “You don’t need me for this, Tony. I’m leaving.”

Tony’s first thought was to chastise his old friend for speaking to him in that manner, but a second thought convinced him not to. He quickly assessed that it was his mood pushing toward a confrontation with Jeremiah and not this event. He had also come to the realization that confronting his fellow vampires might be a bad thing to do. The past three days taught him that he was in a new relationship with his criminal associates. He began to see signs that they no longer felt a need to be obsequious to him now that they were vampires.

“Damn you, Jerry,” Tony called out in frustration. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Jeremiah ignored Tony’s admonishment and stormed out of the stash house. Twenty minutes later he was parking his car in the driveway of his house. The glow of the morning sky was just making its presence visible over the eastern horizon when Jeremiah raced through the front entrance of his home. As soon as he entered the house, Jeremiah began hearing Patricia and Keegan’s voices and laughter coming from the kitchen, and he hurried toward it.

“What’s going on,” Jeremiah challenged after stopping just inside the kitchen entrance.

The sight of Patricia and Keegan barefoot and minimally dressed sent Jeremiah into an immediate rage. It took him no time to surmise what they had been doing while he was gone. The thought of killing Keegan immediately popped into Jeremiah’s head, but the fear of being killed by him stopped him from acting on that impulse.

“Oh, it’s you,” Patricia mumbled while holding a half-eaten raw steak in her hand.

Patricia was seated at the kitchen table wearing nothing more than a blouse and panties. Keegan was seated at a right angle from Patricia wearing nothing more than pants a. He was munching on a portion the raw steak that was in his hands. It was clear to Jeremiah by what he was seeing and hearing that the two of them were in a cheerful disposition.

“We’re eating,” Keegan reported with a smile after swallowing what he had in his mouth. “How did everything go with the coke?”

Jeremiah had no answer for Keegan’s question. He was too busy fuming over what he was looking at. Keegan’s usual cheerful manner heightened Jeremiah’s anger in that moment. In Jeremiah’s mind, Keegan’s dismissive good humor was trivializing something that was infuriating to him. After a couple of seconds of thought, he decided against ripping out Keegan’s throat for the effrontery of treating the situation as if it was no big deal.

“What do you want?” Patricia snidely asked with a disapproving scowl.

“I want to talk to you,” Jeremiah returned after a pause to consider his words.

“Well, that’s too bad, because I don’t want to talk to you,” Patricia responded with a mixture of disbelief and incredulity.

Jeremiah quickly decided that it was probably better not to provoke an angry confrontation with Patricia. His thinking was that hostility might slow the effect of their pheromone connection or produce the wrong outcome. He did not want Patricia’s anger to induce him to anger and disrupt his arousal.

“I’m trying to apologize,” Jeremiah spoke without emotion.

“Apologize for what—stuffing me into the trunk of your car and sucking the life out of me or chaining me to a pole in your basement and leaving me there to starve?” Patricia vehemently challenged.

“You should be flattered I did those things,” Jeremiah said with a polite insistence as he took a seat across from Patricia. “I did them for you. I could have chosen anyone, but I chose you. Didn’t you ever wonder why I always sat in your section at the diner and why I always left large tips?”

“I know why,” Patricia quickly rifled back. “Because you’re a creep. You think I didn’t see you following me around the diner with your eyes,” she continued with her face contorted in a look of disgust. “Do you know how many creeps who come into the diner every week—and leave large tips? Hell—those tips were the only reasons why I put up with you,” she spat.

Jeremiah was surprised by the exchange he was getting from Patricia. In the past, she could not endure being close to him for any amount of time without exhibiting signs of stimulation because of their connection. He knew that her reaction to him was a result of his sexual arousal. He could feel her response across the pheromones she emitted. Just being near her during those moments made him feel like he had just ingested a mega-powerful, chemical aphrodisiac. When they were in the car together, he was perpetually fighting his desire to stop the vehicle, climb over the front seat and have his way with her. He knew she was feeling him because of the soft moans and groans he heard coming from her. What had Jeremiah startled at that moment was the absence of that chemically induced aphrodisiac feeling he was used to experiencing when he was near her. And what alarmed him even more was that she obviously was not experiencing anything from him now. A panic quickly swelled up in Jeremiah. He knew something was wrong. Something had happened, and he suspected that Keegan was the cause. He briefly glared at Keegan before speaking again.

“You should be thanking me,” Jeremiah growled at Patricia.

The petite newborn immortal responded with a snarl while hunching forward with both hands on the table. Patricia’s canines and fingernails became more pronounced fangs and claws, and her eyes started reflecting light. An instant behind Patricia’s reaction, Keegan also roused to an angry posture but less physically so. He froze in place with his glare directed at Jeremiah.

“I made you,” Jeremiah continued screaming with rage while ignoring Keegan. “I gave you a gift. I made you immortal.”

“You need to get the fuck out of my face,” Patricia loudly grumbled.

“You belong to me,” Jeremiah yelled while slapping his hands down on the table.

“Get this through your stupid head, asshole,” Patricia belligerently yelled while getting up onto her legs and leaning over the table. “I am not your mate.”

“Bitch!” Jeremiah roared while reaching out toward Patricia with his right hand.

An instant before Jeremiah’s hand was about to grasp Patricia by the neck, Keegan reached out with his left hand and snatched it away. Almost within that same instant, the 6’4” Keegan grabbed the 5’8” Jeremiah by the top of his shirt and pulled him out of his chair as he stood up himself. He then pulled Jeremiah in close to his face. Keegan’s eyes appeared to be glowing as he and Jeremiah glared at each other with rage, but neither had expressions that matched Patricia’s intensity. Her fangs were on full display as she hissed at Jeremiah. She stood motionless with one knee up on the table as though she was ready to climb over it.

“Back off, Jerry, before you start something you won’t live long enough to regret,” Keegan warned with a grumble in his tone.

Keegan pushed Jeremiah back and glared at him with his claws out ready for a fight. Jeremiah matched Keegan’s in ferocity; he was ready for battle and wanted Keegan dead, but he suppressed his instinct for any direct action against the large vampire in front of him. He held Keegan’s stare for several seconds, then he relaxed his posture and looked away. When Jeremiah turned away, Keegan took a deep breath, relaxed his guard and started back to his seat at the table. It was in that moment, Jeremiah’s blind rage erupted.

Jeremiah spun about and leaped up onto Keegan’s back while digging his claws into Keegan’s face. An instant behind the initial attack, Jeremiah sunk his teeth into the back of Keegan’s neck. Blood was seeping out from wounds all about Keegan’s head and face. In response, Keegan reached back over his shoulder and attempted to ripped Jeremiah from off his back while spinning about. The growls of the two vampires reverberated throughout the house and beyond. In a little more than a second after the battle started, Patricia jumped off the table with claws and fangs bared for battle. She landed atop Jeremiah’s back with both her hands and arms wrapped around his head. Jeremiah began spinning about to dislodge the small vampire on his back while maintaining his hold on Keegan. The last thing he wanted to do was free the large male vampire to turn face on towards him.

As Jeremiah, Keegan and Patricia bumped around in the kitchen, disrupting furniture while knocking kitchen accouterments to the floor, they screamed out profanities at the top of their voices. Several seconds into the tussle, Patricia pulled Jeremiah’s head back from Keegan’s neck and continued to pull unto his grip on Keegan began slipping away. A second later, Keegan pulled free from Jeremiah’s hold to his head, spun around and took Jeremiah by the arms. With her knees braced against Jeremiah’s back, Patricia continued pulling and twisting Jeremiah’s head back, and without his hands free, he could not pull Patricia off him. In his desperation to get the petite vampire off him, Jeremiah tried to go down to the floor on his back while pulling Keegan with him. His hope was to free his head and his arms while tussling along the floor, but that did not happen. Keegan braced his right foot against Jeremiah’s abdomen while simultaneously pushing with his leg and pulling with his arms. That act prevented Jeremiah from going down any further than his knees.

With Jeremiah on his knees, Patricia was suddenly able to brace her feet against the floor, allowing her to intensify the stress she was applying to Jeremiah’s neck. Within seconds, Jeremiah began to yell in response to Patricia’s efforts to wrench his head free from his body. Several seconds more, and the sounds of bones cracking inside of Jeremiah’s neck could be heard. Instantly, Jeremiah’s resistance fell away as though someone had flipped an on/off switch. A moment later, Patricia ripped Jeremiah’s head away from his torso and Keegan tore his arms from his sockets. Patricia and Keegan were enveloped by a sudden spray of blood that ended when Jeremiah’s torso fell to the floor.

For a few seconds Keegan and Patricia stood in stunned silence over Jeremiah’s torso with three of his extremities in their hands. They could do nothing but stare at each other in amazement as their minds tried to process what they had just done. With their adrenaline still pumping and the excitement of the moment still fresh, their ardor roared into a pressure dome of lust. Instantly, the dome burst, and they dropped the body parts they held and raced into each other’s arms in a passionate frenzy of kissing and groping. They began to undo what clothing they were wearing. Keegan unfastened his belt and pants as Patricia pulled her blouse off over her head. As soon as Keegan’s pants and underwear were down around his ankles, he picked Patricia up and deposited her on the table where he stripped away her panties. He was an instant away from coupling with her when a voice screamed at them from the kitchen entrance, bringing them to a screeching halt.

“What the fuck did you do?”

Lola’s appearance at the kitchen entrance surprised Keegan and Patricia. Their fixation on their fight with Jeremiah caused them to miss the sound of the doorbell and the door crashing open. When the fight was over, their driving lust for each other caused them to miss Lola’s movements in the house. For a moment, Patricia and Keegan went motionless and looked at Lola like a pair of deer frozen in a car’s headlights.

“Ah, we had a disagreement,” Keegan clumsily reported while pulling up his pants.

While Keegan fumbled out his reply, Patricia went after her blouse and slipped it on over her head.

“You killed him,” Lola exclaimed as she stared at Jeremiah’s remains on the floor.

“He started it,” Patricia defensively asserted while searching for her panties.

“Do you know who he is?” Lola challenged with an intonation of shock.

“He’s a creep,” Patricia furiously answered with panties in hand.

“That creep is Tony’s best friend,” Lola countered as if she had announced something amazing.

“Hey, he attacked us,” Keegan accused. “We we’re minding our own business when Jerry came in huffing and puffing and making crazy demands. He attacked me,” he shouted with a point at the bite marks on his neck. “Look at what he did.”

The scars that Keegan indicated were nearly healed by this time, but there was still blood and pink abrasions to be seen.

“Uh huh,” Patricia eagerly supported. “And he was spoiling for a fight.”

“Do you really think Tony is going to care about any of that?” Lola questioned. “Tony and Jeremiah have been together since high-school. They’re like brothers. He’s not going to just forgive and forget.”

“Then we’ll kill Tony too,” Patricia growled in defiance.

“Yeah!” Keegan yelled in support of Patricia. “I’m not afraid of Tony.”

Lola was taken aback by Keegan’s immediate and unreserved shoulder-to-shoulder stance with Patricia. She barely knew Keegan, but she did know Tony. It made no sense to Lola for Keegan to be so supportive of a young waitress that he had just met and who was being openly hostile to Tony. Lola could not imagine Tony employing an associate capable of that degree of disloyalty to him. Those thoughts rolled around in her mind for a moment, and then she moved on to a new thought.

“Where’s Paula,” Lola suddenly asked.

“I don’t know,” Keegan answered with a shrug. “We thought she was with you.”

“No,” Lola strongly countered. “I left her here.”

“Well, she’s not in the house,” Patricia nonchalantly returned with her hands on her hips.

Lola paused to consider the situation at the house. She did not know where Tony was or when he would return, and she had no idea where Paula was or what she was doing. Her fear at that moment was that doing nothing might endanger her. Based upon her conversation with Paula, Lola knew she had some worries about being a vampire. The sun was already over the horizon, and Lola’s speculation was that as time went on, the likelihood of Paula’s returning while the sun was up grew smaller. Lola found it hard to believe that Paula’s absence was an accident. She began to worry about Paula what was she doing. Lola was deep into thought when her cellphone rang.

“Where were you?” Lola bellowed into her cellphone after hearing Mary’s voice.

“I was starving,” Mary answered in a voice laced with dread. “So, I tried walking to the mart up the street,” she began to artlessly lie.

“During the day—you went out in the sunlight?” Lola interrupted with an inflection of shock.

“Yeah,” Mary said defensively. “It’s only a couple of blocks away, and I didn’t know it would be that big a deal.”

“What happened?” Lola gruffly asked as though she was anxious to hear the punchline.

“I couldn’t make it. I thought I was going to collapse on the sidewalk,” Mary hesitantly delivered her feebly concocted story. “And then a bus came by and I got on it, and I fell asleep.”

“You went to sleep on a city bus?” Lola asked with incredulity.

“Yeah, I was tired—I was so tired, but I didn’t sleep long. It wasn’t a deep sleep. I just needed to rest, and to get out from under the sun,” Mary struggled to explain.

“Okay, then why didn’t you come home?” Lola challenged.

“Somebody stole my purse,” Mary somberly answered after a pause. “When I got off the bus, I was miles away from home and it was the middle of the day.” 

For several seconds there was nothing but silence. Then Lola concluded that Mary was waiting for some comment from her.

“Then what?” Lola challenged with a dubious inflection.

“I spent the day in the waiting room of the Brooklyn Hospital Center, and then I walked home,” Mary reported in a depressed voice.

Once again there was a prolonged silence. Lola knew that Mary was waiting for a response from her, but she was not sure what to say. Lola felt that Mary’s story was too convoluted. The details of it explained why she was nowhere to be found and could not be called for the past 24 hours, but it all sounded questionable.

“Mary, are you shitting me?” Lola accused with disbelief.

“No, that’s what happen,” Mary insisted in a pleading voice.

“Why didn’t you call me or anybody to come and get you?” Lola questioned in an argumentative tone.

“I didn’t have my cellphone,” Mary sharply defended. “I left it in the house by accident. Besides, nobody memorizes phone numbers anymore. It’s all data stored on a chip in our smartphones,” she finished with decisiveness.

Lola continued to think that Mary’s explanation for her absence was overly involved, but the excuse about her cellphone was a match for what she saw in her house. It made no sense to Lola for Mary to intentionally leave her cellphone in the house. After a moment of consideration, Lola decided it was a waste of time to think about it anymore.

“Okay, you’re at home now, right?” Lola queried in a hurry.

“Yes,” Lola confirmed without hesitation.

“Good. Stay there,” Lola responded. “We’re coming over.”

Mary agreed without question. She suspected the we that Lola was speaking of was Tony and/or Jeremiah. She had no reason to dispute their decision to come to her home, and she knew better than to challenge it.

Lola disconnected the call after giving Mary the instruction to stay where she was. Lola then turned her attention back to Keegan and Patricia.

“We need to get out of here,” Lola advised with a look toward Keegan and Patricia. “Now.”

“Why,” Keegan asked with a confused look.

“I don’t know where Paula is. I don’t know who she’s talking to or what she’s saying. And when Tony gets here, he’s going to want both of your heads,” Lola explained in rapid succession.

“Let him try,” Patricia truculently asserted.

“Hey, that’s between you and Tony,” Lola returned while flagging her hands in a manner that said she did not want to play a part that dispute. “But if the police show up at the door, I prefer not to be in here with him on the kitchen floor,” she continued to explain while pointing at Jeremiah’s remains. “And I don’t want you here because you know too much.”

Lola’s big worry now was Paula. She recalled her conversation with Paula and how she was concerned about the biblical implications of what they had become. It was dawning on Lola now that Paula might be exposing them to the police. Keegan and Patricia picked up on her concern about Paula from Lola’s words.

“So, are you coming?” Lola impatiently asked Keegan and Patricia.

“Okay, we’re coming,” Keegan agreed with a shrug of resignation.

“Good,” Lola testily returned. “We’ll take his car,” she directed with a point to Jeremiah’s dead body. “Get his car key.”

Keegan quickly went over to Jeremiah and fished a ring of keys out of Jeremiah’s pants pocket. After removing the car key off the ring, Keegan dropped the dozen or more remaining keys on the floor beside Jeremiah’s body. Then he collected his personal belongings, got into Jeremiah’s car and drove off for Mary’s house with Lola in the front passenger seat and Patricia in the back.


	29. What Did You Do

It was early Monday morning when Sarah Price started to rouse from her death sleep. The sun had yet to rise, but the glow of its presence had just begun to appear along the eastern horizon. Mary Thistle, who was sitting at her bedside, quickly attended to Sarah by taking her hand.

“What—what—what happened?” Sarah mumbled.

“Sarah,” Mary whispered. “It’s me, Mary. You’re okay.”

It took Sarah’s mind a moment more to clear enough to understand where she was, who was speaking to her and how she came to be where she was. Soon after that information had coalesced into a memory, Sarah pulled away from Mary and began looking at her with a terrified expression.

“What are you?” Sarah cried out as she cringed away from Mary.

“I’m the same person,” Mary softly assured as she reached for Sarah.

Sarah rolled away from Mary’s hand and then began crawling toward the far side of the bed. Her movements were feeble and laborious.

“What’s wrong with me?” Sarah huffed as she began climbing off the edge of the bed. “Why am I so weak?”

“Your body needs food,” Mary mildly asserted. “You’re going through a transition, and you need to eat.”

“You tried to kill me,” Sarah exclaimed as she crawled off the edge of the bed. “You—you bit me,” she continued while crawling toward the corner of the room.

“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Mary pleaded as she walked around the bed. “But you’re okay now. I promise.”

Sarah gradually began to relax as Mary approached with repeated promises that she was in no danger while holding out her hand. Nearly thirty seconds later, Sarah took Mary’s hand and stood up with her assistance. Sarah then walked around to the end of the bed and sat down.

“What did you do to me?” Sarah queried with insistence.

“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Mary apologized. “I lost control. I was so hungry, but you’re okay. I made you like me. I made you better than the way you were.”

“What are you talking about?” Sarah disputed.

“You’re immortal,” Mary asserted. “You can’t die—at least not from natural causes.”

“You’ve gone mad,” Sarah stridently countered.

“Look at me, Sarah,” Mary insisted as she stepped back. “I’m getting younger by the minute, and so are you.”

“I can barely stand up because of you,” Sarah screamed back with rage. “I’m not getting younger. I feel like I’m dying, you bitch.”

“You’re not dying,” Mary gently disputed. “The change is draining you of energy. You just need to eat something, and I promise, you’ll feel better.”

Sarah paused to consider Mary’s words. As Sarah pondered, Mary took a step back so all of her could be seen.

“Look at me, Sarah,” Mary pleaded. “When was the last time I looked this young.”

Mary twirled about so that Sarah could see all sides of her. Sarah was impressed with Mary’s appearance and it showed in her expression. She could see that Mary was looking much younger now than she did the day before.

“How are you doing this?” Sarah huffed out with a disbelieving shake of her head.

“I promise, I’ll explain everything later,” Mary said as she took Sarah’s arm and began helping her up onto her feet. “The first thing you have to do is eat,” she added while leading Sarah toward the bedroom door.

Sarah was in the hallway, starting toward the stairs outside her bedroom when she noticed the door to the spare bedroom was slightly open. Keeping that door shut was a habit with Sarah, and she immediately jumped to the suspicion that Mary had been in there. After pulling away from Mary’s lead, Sarah pushed the door open all the way to see if anything had been disturbed.

“Kenneth!” Sarah cried.

The sight of her son lying on the bed in the spare room shocked Sarah. She had no idea why Kenneth was there or why he was lying fully dressed in his childhood bed. Sarah turned and went into the bedroom without any resistance from Mary.

“I’m sorry, Sarah,” Mary beseeched as she followed her into the bedroom.

“What did you do?” Sarah exclaimed as she moved to Kenneth’s bedside.

“Sarah, I’m sorry,” Mary continued to plead. “I lost control. I was hungry and I couldn't stop myself.”

Sarah could hear the words coming from Mary, but the horror of seeing her son lying motionless was suppressing thought and comprehension.

“What did you do?” Sarah continued to cry in dismay.

Sarah sat down on the bed next to her son. Fearing that he was dead, she touched her hand to his neck.

“You killed him,” Sarah screamed with a look of terror on her face.

“No, Sarah. No,” Mary quickly contradicted. “It’s okay, I gave him my blood. He's turning into what we are. He's going to be okay.”

Sarah turned to look at Mary with a mix of confusion and hope.

“What do you mean, you gave him your blood?”

“He's going to be like us,” Mary explained in a tone filled with regret. “When his heart stopped, I fed him my blood. He's turning into an—immortal.”

Sarah was confused by Mary’s answer. That was the second time she heard Mary refer to herself as an immortal. The first time she was content to let it pass without explanation until later, but she was not prepared to let it go now that her son was involved.

“What do you mean, immortal?” Sarah raged at Mary. “What the fuck is an immortal?”

Mary hesitated to answer. She knew that Sarah would not believe her at first, and she feared how she would react at this moment.

“Kenneth is turning into a—vampire,” Mary carefully replied.

Sarah was momentarily stunned by Mary’s answer. She could not believe that Mary was choosing to joke with her now.

“You have to be kidding,” Sarah declared with a look of dismay. “You think this is funny?”

“You saw my fangs,” Mary quickly countered with a slight flair of hysterics.

Mary paused to give Sarah time to recall the event that turned her into an immortal.

“Look, he’s dead,” Mary continued with a point at Kenneth. “Just like you were dead.”

Sarah tried to resist believing what Mary was saying, but she could not help but notice that everything she said supported her claim.

“And just like you, Kenneth will awaken in a few hours,” Mary added with finality. “But you’re going to need to eat. That’s why you you’re so tired. Your body is still changing, and the change is sapping your strength. You need to eat to fuel the process—Kenneth too—meat will do, but blood is best.”

“That’s what you did? You fed on me?” Sarah questioned in commanding tones.

Mary noted the anger in Sarah’s voice more than the question. She quickly decided that answering would likely make her angrier, so she elected to ignore it.

“You have to eat, Sarah,” Mary plaintively urged. “The longer you wait, the hungrier you’ll get. And if you wait too long, you’ll lose control too.”

Sarah fumed over Mary’s assertions, and her anger grew as she considered her words. 

“You bitch,” Sarah roared after a pause. “I want you and this craziness out of my house.”

“It’s true, Sarah,” Mary stridently proclaimed. “You have to believe me.”

“I don’t believe you,” Sarah yelled back as best she could. “I don’t believe any of it. I want you out of here.” 

“Sarah, you have to listen to me,” Mary shouted in a rush. “He was going to call the police. I had to stop him.”

“What are you talking about?” A discombobulated Sarah challenged.

“Sarah, if you tell the police they will arrest you and Kenneth,” Mary warned sternly. “To everyone else, we’re monsters. They’ll put us in cages.”

“I don't believe you. And I don't believe this vampire crap,” Sarah insisted hysterically.

“You know it’s true, Sarah,” Mary vehemently argued. “You can feel it inside. I know you can. It’s like your senses are hyped up ten-fold.”

Sarah took a moment to assess herself and the accuracy of Mary’s analysis of what was going on inside her. Shortly, she concluded that her senses were in a heightened state, and her facial expression changed into a look of amazement in reaction.

“What did you do to me?” Sarah shrieked with a look of shock.

“I told you,” Mary said with regret in her voice. “And I did the same to Kenneth—Just give it a few hours, he will wake up. I promise.”

“I want you out of here,” Sarah screamed with a point at the bedroom doorway. 

“Okay,” Mary agreed as she backed toward the doorway. “But you can’t tell anyone, Sarah. I know you smell it, the difference between us and the world around us. And I know it’s producing a—sensation in you—a feeling of us versus them—vampire versus human,” Mary stressed with desperation in her speech. “I know you feel it, because I felt after I woke up—like being a wolf in a forest full of hunters,” she added with a questioning inflection. “We’re the same. You can’t go to police for help—or any human—they’re not us—and we’re not one of them anymore. They’ll put us in cages—or worse—you and Kenneth.”

Sarah hesitated to consider Mary’s warning.

“Go,” Sarah insisted after the pause. 

Mary was terrified of leaving, but she did not know what else to do. She could see that her presence was distressing Sarah, and that leaving was the only way to calm her down. She knew that once she was gone, there was nothing she could do but hope that Sarah did not call the police. When she did leave Sarah’s house, Mary hurried back to her home. Initially, when she was back inside her house, Mary did not notice any difference inside. That was wholly because she did not take the time to check her backdoor or look to see if anything was out of place. Her mind was still fixated on Sarah and Kenneth. For more than five minutes, Mary paced her living room with worry. She watched and waited for sight or sounds of the police arriving at Sarah’s home. When she was mostly convinced that Sarah had not called the police, she went to her bedroom, took her cellphone in hand and input Lola’s new cell number.

Mary avoided telling Lola about turning Sarah and Kenneth into immortals. She knew Lola would have no choice but to tell Tony about her own transition if she learned what she had done with Sarah and Kenneth. She also feared how Tony would react if he found out that she had turned Sarah and Kenneth. To avoid Tony’s wrath, Mary elected to tell Lola a convoluted story. She told Lola a story about an exhausting walk in the sunlight, a bus trip and a stolen purse. When she got to the end of her story, Mary was more than a little surprised that Lola accepted her lie. She was even more surprised when Lola said that she and others were coming to her house straightaway.


	30. Straight Talk

The sun was just above the eastern horizon when Mickey Nevers returned to Tony’s stash house. When the building was not being used to hold and hide cocaine, it was in the middle of renovations by its owner, Jeremiah. Mickey backed the unmarked six-wheel delivery van flush against the loading dock door at the side of the building. When the delivery van’s rear door opened, fifteen local drug dealers got up from their seats in the back of the truck and walked into the storage room of the building. Inside the storage room were two dozen foldout chairs and two foldout tables. When everyone was inside the room, Malcolm closed the docking bay door.

“Please, gentlemen, help yourselves to some refreshments,” Tony politely proffered while standing in the center of the room.

An array of alcoholic beverages and cups were situated on the foldout table positioned against the wall that separated the storage room from the main room at the front of the building. A few of the drug dealers went to the table and poured themselves drinks. Most did not.

“Okay, gentlemen, can we proceed?” Tony requested when he had the attentions of all the dealers in the room.

The fifteen men were cocaine dealers who operated in different sectors of the city and maintained large clienteles. In the past, they pushed Tommie Grasso’s cocaine. They were all here to negotiate the terms of doing the same for Tony. At Tony’s urging they clustered together in front of him.

“I’m sure you’ve all heard about the unfortunate mishap that befell Grasso,” Tony began in a pleasant tone of voice. “And I can imagine that his absence has produced some concern among all of you.”

Tony paused to give greater significance to what he was about to say.

“You’re all big-league dealers who were pushing Grasso’s product. So, I can’t help but imagine that you’re concerned about the state of your business now that Grasso is gone,” Tony said in a straightforward delivery. “I am here to assure you that there will be no disruption in your business,” he continued with a smile. “From now on, I will be your supplier.”

Tony paused again and panned the faces of the fifteen men in front of him. He then turned his attention toward the table behind him and the array of seven duffel bags. Malcolm began unzipping each duffel when Tony looked his way. When he was finished unzipping all the bags and exposing the hundreds of packets of cocaine inside them, Tony turned his attention back toward the fifteen drug dealers in front of him.

“You have the clientele—I have the supply,” Tony announced politely. “I think we’re in a position to help each other. Don’t you?”

A moment of silence followed behind Tony’s question. Each drug dealer was hesitant to be the first to speak.

“With all due respect, Mr. McGuire,” Alex Bailey began politely. “Grasso provided more than a steady supply. He provided cover from legal—entanglements, and he protected our markets from competitors. Grasso’s—sudden departure—leaves a pretty big vacuum. It takes a lot of money to buy that kind of clout. From what I hear, that’s not you.”

Tony paused to consider his next words.

“That’s a fair point,” Tony pondered. “But take a look behind me,” he continued with a gesture toward the duffel bags of cocaine on the table. “That’s a big investment for me. I am all in on this,” he asserted with a stern pan of the room. “And I plan to fill Grasso’s shoes and more. This is just the beginning, gentlemen. There will be no stopping me. Your problems are my problems. I’m tapped into the local constabulary and my influence will be expanding, greatly. If you encounter a problem with someone moving into your market, bring it to me. I’ll take care of it. And as a gesture of respect for your concerns, for six months, I’m prepared to give all of you a 15% mark down on the deal you had with Grasso.”

Tony paused after making his discount offer. He waited and watched to see how the dealers would respond and react. For several seconds, there was no response. Each dealer silently considered Tony’s offer.

“Okay then,” Tony continued after a prolonged pause. “I’m sure you would all like to sample the merchandise, so please,” he encouraged with a gesture of his hand.

The fifteen drug dealers went up to the table and began removing random packets. Using their pinky fingers in most cases, they dabbed them into the packets and taste tested the contents under the watchful eyes of Charlie, Ben and Malcolm. Mickey Nevers stood off to the side and watched everything.

“All the packets are the same,” Tony advised as the men moved around the table. “It’s eighty percent pure.”

It took the dealers a little more than two minutes to complete their pinky tests, and then they moved back to the center of the room.

“Are we satisfied?” Tony questioned with a hint of a smile.

The group of dealers mumbled and nodded their satisfaction with the cocaine packets.

“Good, so let’s get down to it,” Tony continued with a smile.

Tony walked around the table with the cocaine on it. He sat down in the center chair and opened the ledger in front of him.

“I’m going to start you off with five-hundred packets,” Tony began with an upbeat tone. “If you can’t move that within a month, then I might have to reconsider our association,” he pleasantly added. “These two gentlemen,” Tony continued with a gesture to his left and right. “Their names are Charlie and Ben. They’ll be handling the drop-offs and pickups. When you’re talking to them, you’re talking to me. When you do business with them, you’re doing business with me,” Tony instructed with vehemence.

“Okay, who’s first?” Tony asked with a smile.

Over the next hour, Tony counted out cocaine packets and noted the data in his ledger for each dealer, one at a time. During these transactions, the dealers mingled with each other while consuming the liquid refreshments that was set out for them. When the business was done, the dealers left in the same manner they had arrived. Care was given to keep them unaware of the building’s location. Shortly after their departure, Tony, Charlie, Ben and Malcolm went to the cots in the rooms on the mezzanine level. They had been awake for more than two days and two nights. Hunger told them they either needed to feed or sleep, and they were low on meat. But it was mostly the growing signs of moodiness in the team that ultimately convinced Tony they all needed to sleep.

Tony had not forgotten Razvan’s warning about staying awake for too long. He understood that while a vampire is sufficiently fed, he or she is incapable of becoming physically exhausted and will remain mentally alert. But he also knew that prolonged consciousness would degrade their sanity. He was told that irrational thinking was the result of exaggerated emotions and fears and that would grow worse over time. Tony had already experienced enough of his vampire kindred’s capacity for ill temper and mood swings to know that he did not want to see things get worse.

“We’re done for today,” Tony declared. “Sleep, we’ll relocate to the garage tonight.”

No thought was given to posting a guard during the daylight hours on a weekday in a building on a commercial thoroughfare. They thought themselves well-hidden and too well feared due to their newly established reputation for violence. It was inconceivable to Tony that anyone was looking for them now that Grasso was dead. His problem now was boredom. Inactivity was the foe that Tony and his crew battled during the daylight hours. The new vampires had quickly come to appreciate sleep as the most convenient way to pass through the daylight hours. Sleeping did not stop them from monitoring their surroundings, it only slowed the process. And because their brains were effectively operating in slow motion as they slept, time had the feel of speeding across their dimmed awareness. Unlike the Dacia Vampires, they did not have a history of being searched out by vampire hunters with dogs while they slept, or the phobia born out of that experience. For Tony and his brood of vampires, sleep was the ideal way to deal with the doldrums of the daylight hours, and at that moment, Tony thought of sleep as a priority and not a risk.

Just before he settled into his cot for the day, Tony dialed out to Jeremiah’s house phone. He was doubtful that anyone would answer. It was mid-morning, and he was expecting everyone inside the house to be asleep. That thinking was supported by the belief that any disturbance that was great enough to keep them awake would have produced a phone call to him. After the seventh ring, the answering machine picked up as Tony expected. Under the assumption that all was well within the house, Tony left a brief instructional message for Jeremiah, and then he settled into his cot to sleep through the day.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

When Cassidy arrived at the 13th Precinct Monday morning, she was already aware of the multiple murders that occurred in a Brooklyn carpet store Saturday night. The local news media reported on the discovery of eight bodies in the burnt out remains of the building. Reports of dozens of bullet casings being found among the bodies was also reported throughout the Sunday news cycle, and the identity of several of the victims was disclosed in the Monday morning news. The only thing that the Manhattan South Detectives heard beyond the news reports was that the killings was a definite hit by a criminal organization.

“So, this Tommie Grasso was into drugs?” Dt. Hale questioned as he separated from Dt. Russo and started walking toward his desk.

Detectives Hale and Russo came into the squad room side by side. They had been discussing the news of the carpet warehouse killings during their walk through the precinct.

“Cocaine,” Dt. Russo returned as he approached his desk. “Brooklyn North says he has family ties to organized crime.”

Detectives Greene, Washington and Cassidy were already in the squad room. They all picked up on Dt. Hale and Russo’s conversation when they entered. That subject was of interest to all the officers in the precinct.

“Do they know who did it?” Dt. Vera Washington asked Dt. Russo.

“They heard a rumor about a new player, but they haven’t pinned down a name yet,” Dt. Russo responded as he settled into his desk chair.

Dt. Russo’s information on the carpet warehouse shooting came directly from the officers who were working the investigation. He had extensive ties with the Brooklyn Borough precincts going back to his time as a uniformed patrol officer and during his first five years as a detective. Sunday, he socialized with several Brooklyn Borough patrol officers, and they supplied him with unpublished information on the killings.

“So, is the firefight true?” Dt. Greene asked from his seat at his desk.

“Brooklyn North is one-hundred percent on that,” Dt. Russo emphatically returned. “That was no execution. They were shooting in all directions in there.”

“Is the DEA moving in?” Dt. Greene asked with a look of intrigue toward Dt. Russo.

“Not so far,” Dt. Russo answered. “They think the killings was drug related, but they don’t have any drugs.”

“Hell, eight dead and fifty bullet casings, they weren’t arguing over carpets,” Dt. Greene sarcastically replied.

Detectives Hale, Russo and Washington chuckled in response to Dr. Greene’s remark. Cassidy was giving the conversation little attention. She heard what was being said, but most of her attention was focused on the daily activity reports.

“Well, it sounds like Brooklyn North has its hands full,” Dt. Hale surmised as he clicked through his email.

“Yeah, well the really weird part of their investigation are the bite marks,” Dt. Russo announced while he thumbed through his interoffice mail.

“What bite marks?” Cassidy suddenly looked up to query Dt. Russo.

Dt. Russo stopped what he was doing and looked to Cassidy in reaction to her question. The sharpness of her query alerted him more than the question. Dt. Washington’s attention was also piqued by Cassidy’s level of interest more than the subject matter.

“The Brooklyn North detectives think there was some kind of animal inside the room during the gun battle,” Dt. Russo explained with indifference. “They found bite marks on several of the victims.”

“What kind of animal?” Cassidy eagerly challenged.

“They don’t know,” Dt. Russo answered. 

Cassidy froze in place as she thought about Dt. Russo’s claim that several of the victims had animal bite marks. Her sudden stillness caught Vera’s attention, but Cassidy was too busy thinking to notice her. After several seconds of thought, Cassidy grabbed her cellphone, got up from her chair and setoff for the squad room exit.

“Where are you going?” Vera casually asked in a soft voice as Cassidy started to pass by her desk.

“Mind your own business,” Cassidy sharply returned in a hushed voice without slowing down.

Vera was angered by the response, but she was reluctant to put it on display for everyone to see. She followed Cassidy’s departure out the corner of her eyes while plotting when and where she would give her response.

“Where’s David?”

Cassidy was standing on the sidewalk outside of the precinct when she posed that question to _Nadja_ on her cellphone. The fact that she was speaking to _Nadja_ through David’s _(Cristiãn)_ cellphone surprised Cassidy.

“ _Cristiãn_ is asleep,” _Nadja_ dryly returned. “What do you want?”

“Wake him,” Cassidy forcefully insisted.

“Why?” _Nadja_ challenged.

“That’s between me and David, now wake him,” Cassidy demanded.

“Well, if it’s personal, then it’s not important enough to awaken him from his rest,” _Nadja_ casually countered. “I’ll tell him you called.”

“Listen, bitch,” Cassidy spat into her cellphone with anger. “I’m in no mood to banter with you. This isn’t personal. It’s about the research project I’m doing on his behalf, and it’s—IMPORTANT,” she added with extreme emphasis on the last word.

“Tell me. I will pass it along,” _Nadja_ insisted.

“I’m not talking to you,” Cassidy countered angrily. “Put David on the phone.”

“Listen, Detective,” _Nadja_ began in a voice that was heavy with exasperation. “ _Cristiãn_ is resting. Getting him to the cellphone is going to take five to ten minutes. Do you understand what I am saying?”

Cassidy silently fumed with anger.

“We have a schedule,” _Nadja_ continued with an emphatic tone. “And I’m not disrupting that schedule just because you don’t want to pass a message through me. Do I make myself clear?”

“Fine,” Cassidy returned after an angry huff. “There was…”

“Wait,” _Nadja_ sharply interrupted. “Not over the phone.”

“What?” Cassidy exclaimed with shock in her voice.

“I am not having this conversation over the telephone,” _Nadja_ asserted with finality.

Cassidy was speechless for several seconds. The fact that she was speaking with _Nadja_ had her annoyed, but the thought of being forced to converse with her in person elevated Cassidy’s mood to infuriated.

“Fine,” Cassidy growled in frustration. “Del Crespo’s, ten o'clock—You think you can manage that?” She finished with accentuated sarcasm.

“I’ll do my best,” _Nadja_ snidely returned. 

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

After Cassidy abruptly disconnected, _Nadja_ turned her attention to dressing for her meeting. As the time approached for her departure, she went into the spare bedroom that she and _Petru_ was occupying at David’s _(Cristiãn)_ condominium. _Petru_ was in the bed lying still on his back with his arms were by his side. In appearance he looked to be dead. There was no sign that he was breathing. David was in the same posture in his bedroom. He and _Petru_ were planning to sleep through the day while _Nadja_ stood watch. This was a practice they began more than 2,000 years ago.

“I’m leaving to speak with Cassidy. She has a message that she wants me to pass along. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

_Nadja_ spoke those words to _Petru_ and again to David _(Cristiãn)_ knowing that even in sleep their brains would assimilate her words across a short span of time. She also knew that _Petru_ and David _(Cristiãn)_ would awaken from their sleep if they did not hear her moving around. Telling them where she was going and how long she would be away was _Nadja_ ’s way of telling them that there was no need for them to awaken and that she would soon be back to stand guard over them.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“Running off for personal business again,” Vera carped.

Cassidy had just collected her jacket and bag and was just approaching the squad room exit when Vera intercepted her there. The time was 9:45am and Cassidy had just requested an early lunch break to take care of some personal business. Dt. Hale usually agreed to this common request from team members to adjust their work schedules for personal needs.

“You know, if you concentrated on being a detective a little more and me a lot less you might actually close a case,” Cassidy countered irritably.

The anger that welled up inside Vera was manifested in her cold stare. She moved in close to Cassidy so that there was no mistaking the level of her disdain. Cassidy held her stance and waited for the reply that she knew was coming.

“I was closing cases when you were running around the house in your daddy’s police cap,” Vera hissed in a soft voice and with a hard stare. “I’ve seen people like you come and go. You’re still running around in your daddy’s cap. That’s my experience telling me that you’re nothing more than a play cop. It’s show-boaters like you who get real police officers killed. But you would know all about that.”

Vera’s innuendo that it was some failure on Cassidy’s part that brought about the death of her late partner, Dt. Alan Mercer, aggravated an emotional wound in Cassidy. She had never stopped questioning her actions on the day that Alan was killed. It was her constant fear that she could have done something more or better. For a moment Cassidy’s resolve withered under the weight of that memory, but she quickly caught herself. The thought of giving Vera the satisfaction of seeing her teary eyed steeled her thoughts. With her feistiness reinforced, Cassidy leaned forward and began speaking softly with a hint of jest in her voice.

“I don’t think that’s experience. That sounds more like senility to me. Maybe you should consider retiring.”

A second after Cassidy said her reply, she walked out the squad room exit beneath Vera’s angry glare.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

Cassidy needed the extra fifteen minutes to make it to her meeting with _Nadja_ on time. When she arrived inside Del Crespo’s restaurant, she found _Nadja_ sitting at a table in the dimmest sector of the room. A pair of large dark sunglasses concealed her eyes, and a wide brim hat was lying on the chair next to her. The restaurant was sparsely occupied by a pre-lunch hour crowd. Cassidy promptly went over to the table where _Nadja_ was sitting. As she took a seat in the opposite chair, _Nadja_ removed her sunglasses. For several seconds Cassidy and _Nadja_ stared at each other with expressions that indicated they were not friends. A waitress interrupted their staring contest and asked if they were ready to order. Cassidy declined the offer to order food at that moment. She accepted the menu and requested a Pellegrino to match the drink that was in front of _Nadja_. When the waitress went away, they went back to staring for several seconds more.

“So, detective, what is the message that you want me to pass along?” _Nadja_ asked politely.

“There was a shooting incident Saturday night in a carpet outlet store,” Cassidy began calmly. “Brooklyn thinks it’s drug related.”

“Yeah, I heard about it on the news,” _Nadja_ curtly asserted. “What about it?”

“Some of the victims had bite marks on their bodies,” Cassidy answered with finality.

_Nadja_ froze and held Cassidy’s stare. She had no ready response to that report, and Cassidy was not prepared to say anything until she heard one.

“Are you sure that several of the victims had bite marks?” _Nadja_ questioned after a moment of thought.

_Nadja_ ’s question reflected her concern that bite marks on multiple bodies reinforced the idea that vampires were behind the killings. It also suggested that multiple vampires were involved.

“That’s what was reported to me,” Cassidy returned with a fixed stare.

“Okay,” _Nadja_ softly responded with a knowing nod.

“Okay, what?” Cassidy questioned in a demanding tone.

“We’ll look into it,” _Nadja_ asserted with a hint of annoyance.

“Look into it my ass,” Cassidy leaned over the table to whisper.

It was at that moment that the waitress returned with Cassidy’s Pellegrino. The waitress was made slightly uncomfortable by what she had just overheard, but she quickly smiled and pretended she heard nothing. After placing the drink on the table, the waitress asked if they were ready to order, and once again they declined. The waitress smiled and walked away.

“There are—vampires—roaming the streets,” Cassidy continued at a whisper and while leaning forward over the table. “You need to take care of this.”

“We will,” _Nadja_ softly asserted, “when you find Jerry.”

Hearing the name Jerry thrown back at her once again infuriated Cassidy. It aggravated her that the task of finding these rogue vampires was always put upon her, and hearing it coming from _Nadja_ made it even worse.

“This is a problem of your making,” Cassidy declared with a point of her finger across the table. “You need to fix it.”

The volume of Cassidy’s remark was up just enough to catch the attention of some patrons and staff inside the restaurant. They all made a quick glimpse her way and then returned to the conversations and work they were into.

“You don't understand how quickly this can spread,” _Nadja_ asserted at a low grumble. “It is common for immortals to turn relatives and friends into what they are,” she continued with a fixed stare.

_Nadja_ hesitated to give emphasis to her next declarative.

“No one chooses to go through eternity alone.”

Cassidy paused to consider _Nadja_ ’s warning. She knew that _Nadja_ was pressuring her to work harder and faster, and she appreciated the urgency of the situation. She considered a conciliatory response to _Nadja_ ’s warning, but her anger toward the person giving it refused to back down to allow for the slightest generosity.

“Then you’ve got your work cut out for you,” Cassidy gruffly countered. “Because this is the first and last warning that you're going to get from me.”

Once again Cassidy’s voice was elevated enough to be noticed by others, but all had become accustomed to her loud remarks and made only quick glances at her table from out the corner of their eyes.

“We need you to find Jerry,” _Nadja_ softly asserted while maintaining an erect and still posture. “You have the resources. Find him.”

“Jerry who?” Cassidy exclaimed in a poorly contained whisper. “What's his last name? Where does he live? How old is he? I need more.”

Cassidy’s animated reactions drew more attention. Much of what Cassidy said could not be heard by others in the room, but her points and leaning whispers repeatedly caught the attention of one or more persons in the restaurant. Her energetic behavior was made even more notable by _Nadja_ ’s calm and composed demeanor.

“He's connected with Tony McGuire,” _Nadja_ coolly instructed in a soft voice. “We believe he works the books for him.”

“And _Razvan_ told you this before he died?” Cassidy challenged with a dubious look.

“Yes,” _Nadja_ answered with a slight nod.

Cassidy spent many minutes mulling over the _Razvan_ connection to her search for the mysterious Jerry. Every time she devoted any thought to _Razvan_ as the source that produced the name Jerry, she could not stop herself from wondering how that all came about.

“Why?” Cassidy sharply asked with a stunned expression.

“Because we asked,” _Nadja_ answered.

“Bullshit!” Cassidy responded at a level decidedly above a whisper.

Nearly everyone in the restaurant turned their heads to look at Cassidy and _Nadja_ if only for a moment. _Nadja_ ’s composure fell away slightly so that she could briefly peek at the other patrons, and then she turned her attention back toward Cassidy.

“Find Jerry!” _Nadja_ asserted at a slightly elevated volume.

“I've got other things to do,” Cassidy softly argued. “I do have a job—investigations to work,” she continued while leaning over the top of her glass of water. “It's not like I have a lot of free time to chase down your leads.”

“Yeah, the James Dryden murder,” _Nadja_ leaned slightly forward to whisper below a level that any other occupants in the room could hear. “We're looking into that.”

Cassidy was shocked to hear that the vampires were looking into another one of her investigations, and she showed her concern with a stunned expression.

“Stay away from my investigations,” Cassidy insisted in a stern but low voice.

“We don't have time for this,” _Nadja_ sharply retaliated. “There could be immortals out there doubling in number every day,” she added with vehemence in her tone.

“Then you need to take care of that fast,” Cassidy countered with stare and a point. “Because if you don’t, I will go public.”

_Nadja_ sat back a little with an almost relaxed demeanor.

“You can’t expose us without exposing _Cristiãn_ ,” _Nadja_ returned with a smile.

Cassidy was angered by _Nadja_ ’s smug expression and hesitated to consider her next words.

“Don't make the mistake of thinking I won't,” Cassidy growled under her breath.

“Aw please,” _Nadja_ responded with a huff. “I know a hard-up, cock whipped, prude when I see one,” she daringly added with a slightly forward lean.

“Get this in your head, _leech_ ,” Cassidy stressed at a level that was discernible to several of the nearest occupants in the restaurant. “I will do whatever I must.”

_Nadja_ ’s disposition suddenly blossomed into a visible display of anger. She started taking deep breathes to fume out her displeasure with Cassidy’s insulting words and the volume at which they were spoken. After several seconds of glaring, _Nadja_ began speaking at a level loud enough for all the patrons to hear.

“Maybe you should’ve been thinking that way before you fucked my brother.”

All the patrons and the staff heard _Nadja_ ’s response. The room became quiet as everyone turned their attentions toward _Nadja_ and Cassidy.

“Bitch!” Cassidy immediately responded.

Cassidy’s belligerent response sent the room into a hush, leading everyone to wonder if there would be more to their exhibition.

“Tight-ass!” _Nadja_ bellowed.

Neither woman was aware of anyone else in the room.

“Parasite!” Cassidy returned at the top of her lungs.

The other occupants in the restaurant gasped with Cassidy’s last retort.

“Cow!” _Nadja_ shrieked.

At that point, their serving waitress rushed to their table with a flustered look while fumbling to bring her pen and order pad to the ready.

“Would you ladies like to order—or something?”

Cassidy and _Nadja_ paused, fuming at each other while the other patrons watched and waited for what was to come next.

“You’ve got one week,” Cassidy insisted with a fierce stare.

The waitress waited several seconds more for one of the two women to give her their attention. Her eyes flirted from one to the other. Finally, Cassidy spoke to her without shifting her gaze from _Nadja_ ’s.

“I’m done,” Cassidy declared as she stood up. She pulled some cash out of her pocket and tossed it on the table. “The carnivore will have a steak—raw,” she grumbled at the waitress while nodding toward _Nadja_. Then she turned and stormed out of the restaurant. The shocked waitress watched her walk away before turning her attention to _Nadja_.

“Can I get that to go?” _Nadja_ asked in jest.

“What?” The waitress queried with a confused look.

“Never mind,” _Nadja_ returned as she got up. “We’re done here.”

_Nadja_ put some more money on the table, collected her hat and left the restaurant.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

At 10:15am Monday morning, Kathryn Dryden walked into her living room dressed in slim fitting activewear with a towel across her shoulders and glistening sweat. Tall, slender, youthful and attractive, Kathryn was the ideal image of a trophy wife. After three steps into the room, she stopped and gave her visitor a suspicious look.

“You don’t look like a detective to me,” Kathryn challenged with a frown, and as she crossed her arms.

“I’m not,” Brooke responded with an air of indifference and as she quickly crossed the room to where Kathryn was standing. “Housekeepers are so easy to fool.”

Kathryn stood her ground and examined the attractive young woman approaching her with a mixture of suspicion and annoyance.

“Not Helen,” Kathryn disputed just as Brooke stopped a foot away from her.

“I have a gift for that sort of thing,” Brooke returned with a smile.

Kathryn was made even more suspicious by the attractive young woman’s ingratiating behavior. She had no idea who she was or why she was inside her home. Kathryn took a pause to assess the woman smiling in front of her.

“Well, if you’re not a cop, then who are you?” Kathryn queried with a distrusting gaze.

“My name is Brooke Chapman,” _Adrianna_ announced while extending her hand out to Kathryn. “And we need to talk.”

Kathryn’s suspicion quickly changed to annoyance and anger. She did not like the fact that a stranger had entered her home and disrupted her routine, and she was even more annoyed by the fact that she appeared to be acting coy about why she was there.

“Look, Ms. Chapman,” Kathryn began to speak testily and while ignoring Brooke’s extended hand. “I have nothing to—say—to—the—news . . .” she continued until her voice trailed off into silence.

Kathryn’s animated facial expression gradually changed to a fixed emotionless stare. She was in a trance, and Brooke noted the condition with a smile.

“Good. Now we can have a nice little talk,” Brooke declared with a wide smile.

Brooke spent a little more than twenty minutes in Kathryn Dryden’s home. During that time, she extracted everything that Kathryn knew about her husband’s murder. That information included the name of the shooter, his present location and her connection to him. When she left Kathryn’s expensive Lenox Hill home, Ronald picked her up at the curb in his car. Brooke was not inside the vehicle for more than a minute when she began dialing Cassidy’s cellphone.

“Hi, Cassidy, this is _Adrianna_ , I have some information to pass on to you about your Dryden investigation,” Brooke announced with a cheerless delivery.

“I told you not to do that,” Cassidy grumbled into her cellphone in a hushed voice.

Cassidy was seated behind her desk in the Manhattan South Detective’s squad room when Brooke’s call came in. It was 10:44am and she had not been back from Del Crespo’s for more than five minutes. The caller ID feature in her cellphone told her right away who was calling in. That information motivated her to try to conceal the nature of her conversation by turning away from others and lowering her voice, but that had the opposite effect with Vera. While everyone else in the office was disinterested in Cassidy’s personal call s, Vera became more interested, especially when she took such efforts to conceal them.

“Hey,” Brooke countered defensively and with temper in reaction to Cassidy’s angry admonishment. “I didn’t want to do this. I just did what I was told. Now do you want the information or not?”

Cassidy paused to consider her response, and then she relented with a look of exasperation.

“Okay, what do you have?” Cassidy asked while bringing a pen and pad to the ready.

With repeated looks out the corner of her eyes, Vera watched Cassidy attend to the phone call she just received and the actions she was taking because of it, but the nature of the call was beyond her hearing.

“Outside, eleven o’clock,” Brooke quickly instructed after Cassidy agreed to hear her report.

“No,” Cassidy commanded as sharply as she dared. “Give it to me now.”

Brooke took a long pause to consider Cassidy’s demand. It was contrary to her nature to speak about anything sensitive over the telephone, but she also did not want to spend any more time on this matter than she had to and none of it was about vampires.

“Either tell me now,” Cassidy whispered into her cellphone. “Or do your own looking for you know who.”

“Fine,” Brooke conceded with a huff. “You know, you people are so hypocritical,” she began to protest. “You kill millions of animals for food every year, you kill each other for all kinds of stupid reasons, and you call us monsters.”

“Give me the information,” Cassidy softly grumbled into her cellphone.

“Okay,” Brooke sharply returned. “The shooter’s name is Karl Volker. He was an off the books boy toy that Kathryn Dryden played around with on the side when she was a teenager. It was a wrong side of the tracks type of thing. She was fifteen and he was twenty when they first started—screwing around in the dark. He was a trailer park thug, and she was daddy’s little princess.”

“I get the picture, she wasn’t dating him,” Cassidy acknowledged.

“Right, this was very hush-hush,” Brooke quickly confirmed. “She had a Ken/Barbie relationship going on for the public with someone else, but this Volker character was the bad boy she liked to play around with on the side.”

“How bad?” An intrigued Cassidy asked.

“He did time for armed robbery and assault,” Brooke quickly answered. “That’s what split them up. He’s a suspect in a few other robberies that occurred back when Kathryn was sixteen and seventeen. In one of them, Kathryn drove the car that he got away in.”

“She told you that?” Cassidy asked in a surprised hush.

“Yep,” Brooke replied glibly. “She also told me that he got out of jail three years ago, and he called her immediately after his probationary period was over. That was two months ago. She sent him some money, and he came running. When he got here, they planned James Dryden’s murder.”

“Where is he now?” Cassidy softly whispered into her cellphone.

“He’s holdup in the Hoboken Rodeway Inn under the name Steve Babcock,” Brooke reported.

Cassidy was so busy scribbling down the information, she nearly forgot that Brooke was on the cellphone. When she was done writing, she turned her attention back to Brooke with a mild display of shock that she was still there.

“Is there anything else?” Cassidy asked hopefully.

“Yeah,” Brooke spoke with a haughty air. “Seven years ago, Kathryn paid Karl Volker a visit—at the prison.”

Cassidy was so surprised by Brooke’s last report that she momentarily forgot to breath. After her moment of astonishment, she disconnected the call without speaking another word. She then began mining her computer for data that validated Brooke’s report. Inside the car, Brooke noted the sudden disconnection of her call with a look of annoyance followed by a one-word exclamation.

“Bitch.”


	31. Connecting the Dots

It was just after 11am Monday when Dt. Hale called his team to the conference room to discuss what they had and where they were on the James Dryden murder. Dt. Geoff Greene had just returned from a lunch break, so now all were present. Cassidy had been at her desk working since Brooke’s call. After Dt. Hale’s summons, she hurried to the printer to grab some printouts and then followed the team into the conference room. When they were all together, Dt. Hale began the meeting.

“Without some break in the case, we will soon have to put the Dryden murder on the back burner,” Dt. Hale said in a solemn voice. “As of now, we are back in the rotation. So, if anybody has some idea, some theory on how to proceed, now is the time to speak up.”

Dt. Hale’s declaration that they would soon have to focus the bulk of their attention on another investigation had a dismal effect on everyone there accept Cassidy. Everyone wanted to successfully close the Dryden case, but no one, except Cassidy, knew how to proceed.

“I think I may have something,” Cassidy spoke into the silence.

All eyes turned to Cassidy and the papers she had on the table in front of her.

“Okay, Tremaine,” Dt. Hale acknowledged with a nod in her direction. “Tell me what you’ve got.”

“I found an old boyfriend Kathryn Dryden had in high school,” Cassidy began while shuffling sheets of paper.

“We’ve already cleared him,” Vera quickly spoke up in a dismissive tone. “There’s nothing there.”

“I’m not talking about Adam Reese,” Cassidy quickly countered. “His name is Karl Volker,” she continued while pushing the paper toward Dt. Hale.

“What about him?” Vera snarled as Dt. Hale began looking over the paper.

“I spoke with some people who brought up Kathryn Dryden, or Kathryn Wells as she was known then, and Karl Volker’s names in the same sentence.”

“So?” Vera challenged in a nasty tone.

“This guy has to be four years older than Kathryn Dryden,” Dt. Hale pointed out as he continued to read what was on the paper in his hand.

“Five,” Cassidy corrected. “But that didn’t appear to be a problem for him or Kathryn,” she added. “There was a rumor that she was—intimate with Mr. Volker.”

“A rumor?” Vera challenged with an angry scowl. “What is this, the new hope and a prayer investigative technique?”

Cassidy paused to allow Vera to voice her criticism, but she paid her no courtesy beyond her momentary silence.

“As you can see,” Cassidy continued, pointing to the paper in Dt. Hale’s hand. “Karl Volker was released from prison three years ago, and his probationary period ended two months before James Dryden’s murder.”

In response to that remark, Vera’s attention turned from Cassidy to Dt. Hale and the paper in his hand. Her suspicion, and fear, was that there was more of Cassidy’s story to come.

“Karl Volker is now in the wind and has been for the past two months,” Cassidy continued while sliding another sheet of paper down the table toward Dt. Hale. “The prison log shows that a Kathryn Wells visited Karl Volker seven years ago.”

Dt. Hale snatched up the paper that Cassidy had just pushed his way and began scanning through it at a rapid pace. All eyes were on Dt. Hale as he looked over the prison log sheet.

“This is something,” Dt. Hale announced a few seconds later with an approving nod. “But it doesn’t make this Karl Volker our shooter,” he finished with an approving look at Cassidy.

Just after Dt. Hale spoke, Cassidy pushed her last half a dozen sheets of paper with pictures toward him.

“I took the liberty of doing an image search with the CCTV video footage that we have from the day of the shooting,” Cassidy advised pointing toward the pictures.

Dt. Hale quickly began spreading the pictures out on the table as Detectives Russo, Greene and Vera Washington moved in alongside him.

“I got multiple hits. One of the pictures has a 94% probability match in it. There are eight more with probability matches between 89 and 72%,” Cassidy professed as though it was a minor discovery. “Each one is the same individual.”

“I’ll be damned,” Dt. Hale exclaimed as he and his team members examined the pictures and the male figures circled in red.

After looking through the pictures for several seconds, Dt. Hale turned his attention back toward the papers in his hand.

“This is it,” Dt. Hale exclaimed with excitement in his voice. “This is our guy. I need everyone to make preparations to work late today. We have to find Karl Volker,” he insisted while flagging the prison photo of Karl Volker before his team. “I want an APB out on him ASAP,” Dt. Hale instructed with a gesture toward Dt. Russo.

“I’m on it,” Dt. Russo acknowledged as he turned and started for the conference room’s door.

“Geoff, Vera,” Dt. Hale called out in a commanding tone. “I want you to show these surveillance pictures to Mrs. Dryden—don’t tell her what we know. As far as she is concerned, we don’t know who this guy is, all we have are pictures. Just wave it in her face. Rattle her cage and then fall back into a surveillance posture. I want to see what she does. I’ll have a tap on her lines by the time you get there.”

“We’re on it,” Dt. Geoff Greene enthusiastically returned as he started for the conference room’s door.

Vera hesitated to give Cassidy an angry glare, and then she turned and followed Dt. Greene out.

“Cassidy,” Dt. Hale called out with exhilaration. “Great work. Now find this guy for me.”

Cassidy agreed to do this with a nod and then went back to her desk, but she put no effort into finding Karl Volker. She already knew where he was. She chose not to provide that information to the team because she had no explanation for that knowledge. Cassidy could reasonably argue that she discovered everything else through investigative research, but she knew there was no explanation for knowing where Karl Volker was and the name he was hiding under. It was her hope that a broad search with the help of the patrol bureau or some action by Kathryn Dryden would expose Volker’s location. With that hope in her mind, Cassidy went back to her desk and did busy work. An hour later, it had become clear to her that nothing was going to happen soon, so she made a call to her mother. Cassidy asked Margaret to collect Cynthia and John from the sitter and take them to her home for the night.

A few minutes after the call to her mother, Cassidy saw an activity report on her computer screen that caught her attention. The activity was a police report on a person named Jeremiah Kingston. Cassidy promptly made the association between the names Jeremiah and Jerry, and she chose to give the report a closer look. She quickly learned that a Sandra Moore reported an incident to the police that involved her roommate, Patricia Boyd. In the report Sandra stated that Jeremiah Kingston argued and scuffled with her roommate and then he and another man drove off with Patricia Boyd. The report also noted that Patricia left with the men voluntarily and that no action was taken by the police.

Because of the association between the names Jeremiah and Jerry, Cassidy elected to do a check for a criminal record on Mr. Jeremiah Kingston. She quickly discovered that he had no arrest records or warrants, and she then gave a thought to dismissing her interest in Jeremiah as folly. She was a mouse click away from closing the internet window on the subject when a new thought popped into her head. She decided to take the extra step of checking to see what was in the system on Patricia Boyd. When she input her name in the computer Cassidy was surprised to see a recent missing person report.

What surprised Cassidy the most about the missing person report was that it was less than a week old. She thought it odd that two reports about the same person came in during the same week and that both were dismissed without an arrest or a fine being issued. Mildly intrigued by that anomaly, Cassidy decided to look a little deeper into Jeremiah Kingston. Using the license plate listed in the activity report, Cassidy retrieved Jeremiah Kingston’s home address, age and social security number. Armed with that information, Cassidy did a background check. Approximately five minutes later, she learned that Jeremiah Kingston graduated from the same high school as Tony McGuire, and he did so in the same year.

Now that she knew that Jeremiah Kingston attended the same high school as Tony McGuire and during the same years, Cassidy was eager to know more about the scuffle he had with Patricia Boyd. Cassidy tried calling Sandra Moore, but there was no answer at the number listed for her home in the police report. Cassidy then tried calling out to Toby Kennedy’s phone number that was listed in the missing person’s report, and again she got no answer. Frustrated and still very much intrigued, Cassidy decided that she had to go to them.

“Jason, I’ve got a situation with my kids and I need to leave so that I can take care of it,” Cassidy insisted with a slightly pleading intonation. “But I can come back if things run late here.”

“That’s fine,” Dt. Jason Hale said with a nod. “Call before you come back though. It doesn’t look like anything is going to happen this evening.”

It was a few minutes past 12:30 in the afternoon and nothing new had occurred in their investigation beyond what they had after Cassidy presented Karl Volker’s name as a person of interest. Dt. Hale was hoping that Kathryn Dryden would do something that would lead them to Karl Volker, but the report back from Detectives Greene and Washington was that Kathryn denied recognizing the man in the picture and she had yet to take any action to reach out to him. Kathryn Dryden’s lack of action made Dt. Hale believe that their efforts to find Karl Volker was going to take more than a single day to complete.

“Cassidy,” Dt. Hale called out as she was shutting down her desktop computer. “Good work,” he finished just as Cassidy looked up.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

It was 11:49am when Detectives Vera Washington and Geoff Greene arrived at the Lenox Hill home of Kathryn Dryden. She was elegantly dressed in a long flowery dress, and she accepted the detectives into her home with a smile and grace. When she was shown the surveillance pictures of Karl Volker, Kathryn Dryden denied knowing the man or ever having seen him before. In her voice and manner, Kathryn showed no sign of unease with her denial. She made the appropriate inquiries about the man in the picture and his relationship with her husband’s murder, but she showed no more interest in him than a mailman at her door. After answering all their questions politely and with a smile, Kathryn showed the two detectives to the door.

“Do you believe her?” Dt. Geoff Greene questioned as he and Dt. Vera Washington approached their car.

“I never believe anything that woman says,” Dt. Vera Washington answered in a cynical tone.

The car that Dt. Geoff Greene and Dt. Vera Washington came in was parked a short distance down the street from Kathryn’s expensive five story home. When they got back inside the vehicle, they made no attempt to leave. Vera called in her report to Dt. Hale and listened to his instruction for them to stay where they were. They then settled in and began their wait for something to occur.

Detectives Geoff Greene and Vera Washington had been waiting outside of Kathryn Dryden’s home for more than thirty minutes when a thought that Vera had been fuming over since the meeting spilled out of her mouth.

“There’s something not right about Tremaine,” Vera grumbled while staring out the front window of the car.

Dt. Geoff Greene was unprepared for the comment and thought a moment to catch up with Vera’s thinking.

“Well, whatever is wrong with her, I hope it keeps closing cases,” Detective Greene returned with a shrug and a smile. “She’s really been a boon to our team.”

Dt. Greene’s upbeat response had no effect on Vera. She was set on a course to despise Cassidy Tremaine, and she could not imagine any amount of successfully resolved investigations changing her inclination.

“Yeah, too good if you ask me,” Vera grumbled mostly to herself.

Vera fumed over Cassidy in silence after that remark. Despite the task she was there to do, Cassidy remained the focus of Vera’s attention up until the moment that Kathryn Dryden came out of her home and climbed into a cab more than four hours later.

“There she is,” Dt. Greene declared.

Within seconds, Dt. Greene started the car and followed the cab. Vera was already dialing Dt. Hale.

“Kathryn Dryden is on the move,” Vera reported into her cellphone. “She just jumped into a city cab.”

“Yeah, I got her,” Dt. Hale returned in a placid voice. “DAS is up. You can fall back. We’ll guide you from here.”

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

The instant Detectives Washington and Greene left the Dryden home, Kathryn went into a sour mood. The photographs that the detectives showed Kathryn had a depressing effect on her. Kathryn’s calm and disinterested demeanor was gone, and an almost panicked persona appeared in its place. She went upstairs to her room and closed herself off for several hours. The housekeeper’s query about coming down for lunch was given a sharp “no” in reply. It took Kathryn no more than an hour to figure out what she would do, but it took another three hours for it to be the right time to do it.

When three o'clock came round, Kathryn began preparing herself to go out. She put her hair up into a twisted topknot and adorned herself in an elegant spring dress, matching high heel shoes, a pair of simple stud earrings and lipstick. Then she stuffed a pair of sneakers, jeans, a pullover blouse, a pair of large sunglasses and a tan colored baseball cap into a large handbag. Once she was ready to leave the house, she added the last of her preparations into her handbag: a medium sized string purse filled with her identification, cellphone, a wad of cash and a .38 caliber revolver.

It only took a few minutes for the taxicab to appear after Kathryn’s call for a pickup. She told her housekeeper that she would be back late in the evening, and then she hurried out to the cab. It was Kathryn’s suspicion that the police were watching and following her, but she was reluctant to look out the back window to see. She rode in the cab as if nothing were amiss. It took the cab driver just over fifteen minutes to take her to her husband’s office tower in Lower Manhattan. When the cab stopped, she promptly got out, went into a large high-rise office building, through the lobby and up to her husband’s office floor.

After entering the waiting area outside her husband’s office, Kathryn politely told the secretary that she needed to get something from his office and went inside. She went behind her husband’s desk and inserted her cellphone into the top desk drawer. After that, she sat there for a couple of minutes and then left.

“Thank you, Anna,” Kathryn said as she passed the receptionist.

When she was back in the hallway, Kathryn bypassed the bank of elevators and took the stairs down to the floor below. Then she went to the women’s public restroom on that floor, secured a stall and immediately began undressing. She took off the dress, the earrings and the shoes, and she put on the jeans, the blouse and the sneakers. She let her hair down, put on the baseball cap and donned the string purse. Then she turned the large shoulder bag inside out and stuffed her other clothes inside. When she left the stall, Kathryn went to the mirror, washed away the lipstick and put on a large pair of sunglasses.

When Kathryn left the restroom, she went to the bank of elevators and took the first available car down to the second floor of the building. Then she took the stairs down to the lobby floor and waited just inside the doorway. The time was just after five o’clock, rush hour. Kathryn could hear the throngs of people moving about in the lobby. After a short wait, a group of people came down the stairs. Just as they approached the door to the lobby, Kathryn opened it and exited the stairwell just ahead of them. She then brazenly walked through the lobby within a cluster of people and out onto the sidewalk. Without stopping to look back, she quickly crossed the street and set a course for the nearest subway station. When she reached the far end of the block, Kathryn looked back to see that no one was following her, and she then went on her way.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

Kathryn Dryden’s exit from the cab was seen by Dt. Hale using the real-time surveillance capability of DAS. He advised Detectives Vera Washington and Geoff Greene by telephone that Kathryn Dryden had entered the office building where James Dryden used to work.

“Stay in the lobby and watch for her,” Dt. Jason Hale instructed over the telephone. “And Vera, keep an eye out for anything. She might try to disguise herself.”

“Understood,” Vera confirmed.

The Domain Awareness System (DAS) was a video surveillance capability that Dt. Hale used to track Kathryn Dryden’s movements in real-time. By the time Vera entered the office building, several minutes had passed. It was only through DAS that Vera knew Kathryn had gone into the building. After parking the car, Dt. Geoff Green joined Vera in the building’s lobby. It was another twenty minutes later when Dt. Howard Russo arrived to help in the stakeout for Kathryn Dryden.

“Where’s Cassidy?” Vera asked sharply.

“Personal business,” Howard answered as he examined the dozens of people leaving the building.

“Bitch!” Vera exclaimed in a reflexive outburst.

“Hey, some people have lives,” Howard casually defended as he continued to scan the crowd.

“Some people have jobs, and they should be here to do it,” Vera angrily countered.

It was the height of the rush hour, and a hundred or more people were spilling into the lobby every thirty seconds. Each person that came out of an elevator and stairwell setoff without hesitation for one of the many exits that opened out to the street. Shortly into the deluge of workers pouring out from the upper floors of the building a tall slender woman in a tan baseball cap, blue jeans, sneakers and sunglasses carrying a brown valise and a small string purse, strolled through the lobby and out the exit to the street unnoticed by Detectives Washington, Greene and Russo.


	32. Out and About

At 1:34pm, Cassidy arrived outside the apartment door of Sandra Moore. She spent more than two minutes knocking on her door before giving up and setting off for option number two. After a five-minute drive, she arrived at the apartment door of Toby Kennedy. The proof of someone’s presence inside was made evident by the sound of a guitar twanging on the other side of the door. After several knocks, Cassidy came face-to-face with Toby Kennedy.

Toby reluctantly let Cassidy inside his apartment after she showed him her badge and advised him that she was there to question him about Patricia. Not wanting to appear evasive or defensive, he stepped aside for Cassidy and then fanned the air behind her as she passed, suspecting his apartment smelled of marijuana. Cassidy was indifferent to the smell of cannabis. She was there for one thing, information about Patricia and Jeremiah.

“Tell me about the missing person report you and Sandra filled out.” Cassidy began after examining the tiny, cluttered apartment.

“It was a lie,” Toby quickly countered. “She wasn’t missing.”

That response from Toby was the last thing Cassidy expected to hear. Her initial thought was to wonder why this man would confess to giving a false police report. She quickly came to the thought that she might be misinterpreting his meaning, or that he was misinterpreting her question.

“Filing a false report with the police is a crime,” Cassidy asserted after a pause.

“Hey, I didn’t file a false report,” Toby quickly defended. “I thought something happened to her. She’s the one who was lying.”

“She, who? Are you saying Sandra Moore filled out a false report?” Cassidy stumbled out with a confused expression.

“No, we thought she was dead or something—me and Sandra,” Toby explained with a little anxiety. “It turns out that she was just out there screwing around.”

Cassidy hesitated to get a handle on what Toby was saying. It now made sense to her that the young man in front of her, who was clearly tripping on marijuana, was accusing Patricia Boyd of being the liar.

“Okay, but that’s not lying to the police,” Cassidy corrected as she studied Toby’s manner and expression.

“Yeah, well, we didn’t know that, you see,” Toby returned with a stunned expression. “When she came home, she tried to sell us some lie about being kidnapped, like we’re stupid.”

Cassidy was shocked to hear that it was Patricia Boyd who claimed to be kidnapped. That information did not match with what she read in the police report.

“She said she was kidnapped?” Cassidy questioned with surprise.

“Yeah!” Toby almost yelled back at Cassidy. “That’s what she was trying to make me believe, but then she wouldn’t say that to the police,” he continued with a wave of his hands in disbelief. “And then, when I confronted her about it, she came at me like she was hyped up on some serious uppers. I mean she was crazed out of her mind,” he finished with a dramatic flourish.

“She attacked you?” Cassidy asked with a tinge of disbelief in her voice.

“She threw me across the room,” Toby insisted with vehemence.

Cassidy paused and took a half step back after Toby’s accusation. She could see that he was a borderline miscreant and a drug user, and she began to believe that Patricia Boyd was likely the same as he. It was starting to look like a petty squabble between two young adult delinquents.

“Oh, okay,” Cassidy sighed in resignation. “So, we’re just talking about a three-day drug and alcohol bender?”

“And sex,” Toby forcefully exclaimed. “Pat was never into heavy drugs. The only reason she’d run off for three days is because of some dude, you see,” he continued with a manic expression. “That’s why I got in her face about lying to me. And then her eyes got all weird and she started growling like an animal. I’d never seen her like that before,” he finished with a shrug.

The comment about the eyes caught Cassidy’s attention. She was doubtful that there was anything of importance in Toby’s claim of weird eyes, but she was intrigued enough to want clarification.

“What do you mean about her eyes being weird?” Cassidy asked with a frown of confusion.

“Yeah, well, her eyes got all bright like they were tiny little flashlights,” Toby exclaimed. “It was really creepy looking.”

“You mean like cat eyes?” Cassidy softly questioned in a leading tone.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Toby emphatically agreed. “It was really creepy.”

“Did she have fangs?” Cassidy quickly questioned.

“Fangs?” Toby returned questioningly and with a bewildered aspect. “No. Why would she have fangs?” He questioned with a shrug. “She just had those creepy eyes, and she was strong. She picked me up off the floor,” he finished with insistence.

Cassidy had suddenly heard enough to make her wonder if Patricia Boyd was a vampire. She immediately decided that Jeremiah was someone that she had to know more about.

“This guy that Patricia said kidnapped her,” Cassidy began questioning with a full step forward in Toby’s direction. “Did she give you a name?” She asked with a stern stare.

“I don’t know,” Toby dismissively shrugged off. “What difference does it make. She was lying. She was just making it all up to hide the fact that she was screwing around.”

“Did she say his name was Jeremiah or Jerry?” Cassidy insistently queried.

“No, no,” Toby dismissed with a wave of his hands as though the question was an annoyance. “She claimed the guy was a regular at the diner where she worked and that he was all doe-eyed for her.”

A memory suddenly popped into Cassidy’s thinking.

_No one chooses to go through eternity alone._

These were words that _Nadja_ said to her earlier that day, but it was only now that she gave them any credence. It all added up to the possibility that Jeremiah was a vampire and Patricia was the female he chose to be his mate. Without asking another question, Cassidy turned away from Toby, left the apartment and started to her next destination.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

“Who are they?” Mary asked as she stepped back and opened the door wide.

Lola hurried into Mary’s home with Patricia and Keegan quickly following her. It was mid-Monday morning, and the sun was situated just above the housetops.

“They’re—friends,” Lola answered with some reluctance.

“They’re not—human,” Mary hesitantly stated while sniffing the air between her and her two unknown guests. 

Lola instantly picked up on the fact that Mary was smelling the vampire in Patricia and Keegan. It caught Lola’s attention because she only became familiar with the difference in the scents between humans and vampires after her first excursion out from Jeremiah’s home. It quickly dawned on Lola that Mary must have been in the company of humans at some time while she was gone. She shortly decided that some contact with humans was not to be unexpected. Anyone from the next-door neighbor to the mailman could have made a brief visit to the house. Lola put the subject aside in her thoughts and then turned her attention to Mary’s appearance.

“You’re looking good, babe,” Lola acknowledged with a soft smile while gently touching Mary’s cheek, “just the way I remember.”

Mary responded to Lola’s declaration with a tearful smile of appreciation.

“Do I?” Mary plaintively queried and smiled.

“Yeah, babe,” Lola confirmed. “You’re looking great. Have you been eating?” She added with surprise.

“Ah, yeah, a little,” Mary answered hesitantly.

While Lola and Mary were talking and hugging, Patricia and Keegan went over to the sofa and flopped down onto it. The room was in a darkened state because of the covered windows. All the lamps were turned off. What illumination there was came from the diffuse sunlight bleeding through the curtains. Keegan and Patricia watched the reunion of the old friends in silence up until the moment it appeared that their happy greeting had come to an end.

“So, what are we doing here?” Patricia asked with exasperation.

“We’re going to spend the day here,” Lola answered flatly.

“Why?” Patricia challenged with a shrug of confusion.

“Why?” Lola asked with an astonished expression. “You want to know why?” She continued with a flourish of disbelief. “Well, let’s try this on for size. Jeremiah’s body is scattered into pieces in his kitchen thanks to you two. Paula is in the wind doing who knows what, and when Tony finds out about Jeremiah, I’m pretty sure he’s going to want your heads on platters. How’s that for a fit,” Lola sarcastically finished.

“He started it,” Patricia countered with vehemence and sass.

“You know, I really don’t care if Tony takes your heads,” Lola countered with exaggerated indifference. “But if you knuckle heads attract the attention of the police, then we’re all screwed.”

Patricia had no reply to what Lola had just said. She sat back, crossed her arms and began to pout with anger.

“Tony won’t be back until tonight,” Keegan pondered while he considered Lola’s reasoning. “There was no need to leave in a rush. We could have dumped the body.”

“Jeremiah is dead?” Mary suddenly asked with surprise.

Lola ignored Mary’s question for the moment and kept her attention focused on Keegan.

“Paula is gone,” Lola strongly asserted. “Maybe if you two hadn’t been fucking around all last night we wouldn’t be wondering where she’s at right now,” she finished with a point.

“Us?” Patricia popped up to loudly counter. “You were with her. You should have stayed at the house if you were so worried about her leaving.”

“I wasn’t worried about her leaving,” Lola angrily spoke back. “But she’s gone now.”

“Wait,” Mary quickly inserted while throwing her hands up with animated confusion. “Who is Paula and why is Jeremiah dead?”

“They killed him this morning,” Lola answered with exasperation while gesturing toward Keegan and Patricia.

“He had it coming,” Patricia yelled with attitude. “He was a creep.”

Mary paused to consider Lola and Patricia’s responses.

“And Tony doesn’t know this?” Mary queried with a look toward Lola.

“Not yet,” Lola answered with a disgusted shake of her head.

“And Paula?” Mary brought up after a quick change of thought. “Who’s Paula?”

“She’s one of Tony’s—vampire grandchildren,” Lola fumbled out diplomatically.

“Grandchildren,” Mary exclaimed astonishment. “How many of us are there?”

“Not a lot—yet,” Lola casually tossed out. “Tony is trying to keep us a secret, but at the rate we’re growing I wouldn’t be surprised to see a box marked vampire on the next census form,” she sarcastically added.

Mary made a silent gasp in response and then quickly composed herself. Patricia and Keegan detected no deviation in her manner, but Lola noticed the brief change in her expression and filed it under suspicious.

“And why is Paula a problem?” Mary asked with intrigue and concern in her voice.

“The last time I spoke to Paula, she had a Jesus thing going on,” Lola answered with a dubious frown. “And right now, I have no idea what she’s doing or who she’s talking to.”

“Lola thinks she might be ratting us out,” Keegan bluntly explained.

“Do you really think she’d do that?” Mary questioned with a look of shock.

“I don’t know what she might do,” Lola responded with a shrug. “I just know she’s gone, and Tony told her to stay in the house.”

“You left,” Keegan quickly pointed out.

“Yeah, but I came back,” Lola promptly countered.

“What’s the big deal?” Patricia spoke up with loud impertinence.

“The big deal,” Lola countered with irritation. “If the government finds out about us, they will hunt us down—all of us,” she continued with intensity. “And they will lock us up.”

Lola paused to give weight to her words.

“Now I don’t know about you, but I think eternity is a long time to spend in a cage.”

Patricia and Keegan quietly agreed with Lola and said nothing more about it. Noting that the discussion on that subject was over, Lola turned her attention toward Mary with a stern expression.

“Where were you?” Lola asked in a strict tone of voice.

Mary was surprised by Lola’s sudden change in demeanor. She heard nothing in her voice before to indicate that she would behave in such a serious manner. The fact that she was speaking to her in this way suggested to Mary that Lola suspected her of lying over the telephone about her whereabouts. She briefly considered the options of telling the truth or defending her lie. She shortly concluded that the truth was going to come out sooner or later and decided to tell Lola everything.

“I went to a neighbor,” Mary confessed fretfully. “I was hungry.”

Keegan and Patricia were stunned into silence by Lola’s question and attentiveness by Mary’s reply. They were not sure where their discussion was going, but they both wanted to find out.

“And you were there all night?” Lola inquired with a hint of surprise.

“Yeah,” Mary answered with a nod.

“Is this neighbor dead?” Lola questioned with a look of concern.

“Ah, no,” Mary stumbled out reluctantly. “I mean—no more than you or I.”

Lola was shocked to hear her answer. She knew exactly what Mary was saying the instant she said it.

“Who did you turn?” Lola asked with shock.

“Her name is Sarah,” Mary meekly confessed. “Sarah Price, she lives a few houses down the street.”

Lola shook her head in disbelief as she wondered what should be done about Sarah.

“And—and Kenneth,” Mary hesitantly spoke out after a pause. “Sarah’s son.”

“What?” Lola almost shouted out. “You turned two people into vampires?”

“Yeah—I mean, I think so,” Mary answered in a voice laced with trepidation. “Sarah is like us, but Kenneth wasn’t awake when I left.”

Lola suddenly threw her hands up and began to turn about with an expression of bewildered disbelief.

“This is getting out of hand,” Lola spoke mostly to herself.

“What are we going to do?” Mary asked hopefully.

With a look of frustration Lola turned to face Mary.

“We go to this mother and son vampire duo that you made, and we make sure they’re on the same page with us,” Lola stated with finality.

“Or we kill them,” Keegan added softly.

“Hell yeah!” Patricia resolutely concurred.


	33. House Calls

It was still early morning when Kenneth Price awakened as a turned vampire. His mother, Sarah, was sitting at his bedside when Kenneth suddenly gasped for air. She jerked in shock at his sudden movement. Still weak from hunger and the exertion on her body caused by her vampire transformation, Sarah gently pulled herself up from her chair, and allowed herself to fall toward the bed.

“Kenneth—Kenneth,” Sarah called as she sat on the side of his bed. “How do you feel?”

Mary Thistle left the house half an hour earlier. Over the course of that time, Sarah did nothing to satisfy her hunger. There was nothing in the house suitable for her new nutritional requirement, and she was too concerned for her son to leave. Before his awakening, Kenneth looked dead. Sarah could find no pulse, and he responded to no stimuli. She considered calling for help, but the thought that Kenneth was dead made her realize that calling for the paramedics would do nothing for him. Sarah only had Mary’s word that her son was alive and would awaken from his deathly sleep, and it was because of that promise she did not call the police. She knew that if Mary Thistle told her the truth, then notifying the police would do harm to her son. It was his safety, above her own, that had secured Sarah’s silence so far.

“Where—where am I? What happened?” Kenneth mumbled as he tried to sit up.

“Oh, I was so worried,” Sarah spoke as she caressed her son’s face.

Kenneth turned his head to look at his mother, quickly looking her over as if he did not recognize her; then he turned his head about to examine the room.

“Mom, is that you?” Kenneth asked just as he turned his attention back toward Sarah.

“Yes, it’s me,” Sarah answered as she took his hand into hers.

“What happened to you?” Kenneth asked in a gravelly voice.

Before Sarah could respond, Kenneth’s face lit up in response to a memory suddenly crystallizing in his head.

“Oh my God, Mary,” Kenneth blurted out as he rolled away from Sarah and onto the floor.

Dizzy and weak from hunger, Kenneth’s sudden effort to stand caused him to stumble and fall. At that moment he realized just how tired and weak he was.

“What’s wrong with me?” Kenneth asked as he began pushing himself up from the floor with the help of the bed and nightstand.

“You’re alright, baby. You’re alright,” Sarah reassured as she made her way around the bed.

“Mom, what happened to you?” Kenneth asked as he examined her thin appearance and the exhausted movements of his mother. “You look ill. I thought you were dead. I thought Mary Thistle killed you,” he finished in a flurry and a huff.

“I—I think she did,” Sarah hesitantly responded.

“What are you talking about, Mom?” Kenneth dismissively questioned as he turned away and started for the bedroom door. “I’m thirsty—I got to have some water,” he continued as he stumbled into the hallway.

Sarah followed her son as he made an exhausting walk down to the kitchen. Immediately after entering the kitchen, Kenneth went to the cupboard, pulled out a glass, filled it up with water from the sink and guzzled it down. He drank two full glasses of water.

“What did Mary do to me?” Kenneth asked while massaging the wound on his neck with his hand.

“I don't know,” Sarah answered with a tearful expression. “I mean I'm not sure. I—I think she changed us somehow.”

“Changed us? Changed us how?” Kenneth questioned in a commanding tone.

“She said something about me—us—being vampires,” Sarah reluctantly returned.

Kenneth was stunned by the answer his mother had just given him. He looked at her with an expression of incredulity.

“That's crazy,” Kenneth exclaimed. “We need to call the police.”

“No!” Sarah yelled as Kenneth reached for the house phone.

Kenneth ignored Sarah's warning and took the house phone receiver off the hook. An instant later, Sarah hurried over to the kitchen window and flung open the curtains. Kenneth was instantly overwhelmed by the sunlight. He quickly raised his arm up to shield his eyes from the glow of light coming through the window. Sarah turned away as well and buried her face in the shadow of a corner. A few seconds later, Kenneth dropped the phone, hurried over to the window with his arm shielding his eyes pulled the curtain closed and turned away. Kenneth looked at his mother with shock and amazement. Sarah turned her attention back to her son and noted his dumbfounded look.

“Mary said we can't call the police,” Sarah softly reported.

“She did this to us!” Kenneth roared back.

“Kenneth, we need to think before we act,” Sarah urged with worry. “We don't know what has happened to us, and we don’t know what will happen when others find out.”

Kenneth considered his mother’s words.

“Okay, okay, okay, but we can't do it here,” Kenneth conceded after the pause. “We need to get out of here.”

“Why?” Sarah asked perplexed.

“If we’re a danger to Mary, then she may come back,” Kenneth explained with barely a thought.

“Okay, but how? Where?” Sarah agreed after a moment of thought.

Kenneth took a moment to think about the problem. He knew his mother was thinking about the blinding effect of the sun. Kenneth knew that he was in no condition to drive, and he had no doubt that Sarah was in the same condition. Eventually, Kenneth dug his cellphone out of his pocket and quickly dialed his closes friend, Beau.

“Beau, I need you to bring your van to my mom's house,” Kenneth urged desperately. “Yes, now. It's important.”

It took nearly 10 minutes for Beau Stratham to arrive in his van and park in front of Mary’s house.

“Yo, dude, what happened to you,” Beau asked seconds after he came through the front door. “You sick?”

Beau Stratham was a slightly rotund man of large stature. He sported a mustache and beard to go along with his long hair. His relationship with Kenneth went back to his freshman year of high school when they first met. After high school, Beau joined the Navy and completed eight years before returning to civilian life with his electronics technician training. His mother’s failing health was his primary motive for leaving the Navy. After moving back home, Beau quickly found work as a junior electrical technician.

“I can’t explain it now,” Kenneth returned evasively with regards to the query about his and Sarah’s health. “I need you to take us to your place.”

“My place?” Beau questioned with surprise.

While they spoke, Sarah Price descended the stairs from the second floor. Beau was suddenly captivated by the sight of her. He had always thought Mrs. Price was a handsome woman, but he now noticed her youthful good looks despite her emaciated appearance.

“Mrs. Price, you've—changed,” Beau acknowledged with amazement.

“Hi, Beau,” Sarah returned with a huff.

Beau gave Kenneth and Sarah a second look.

“So, you’re coming too, Mrs. Price?” Beau asked with a befuddled stare.

“Don’t ask questions, Beau,” Kenneth instructed with urgency. “We need to go.”

“Why couldn’t you just come over in your car?” Beau queried with a shrug.

“That’s a question, Beau,” Kenneth asserted forcefully. “We have to go now.”

“Okay, okay,” Beau agreed with a nod.

Per Kenneth’s instruction, Beau went out to his van and opened the side door. As soon as the door was open, Sarah and Kenneth hurried out of the house and up to the van with their hands shielding their eyes. After they climbed into the van, Beau closed the door and hurried over to the driver’s door.

“What’s wrong with you guys?” Beau questioned after climbing into the driver’s seat and closing the door behind him.

Kenneth paused to consider Beau’s question.

“I don’t know,” Kenneth returned.

Beau held his gaze on Kenneth and Sarah a little longer.

“Okay, here we go,” Beau announced as he started the van.

Seconds later, Beau was driving off down the street. Just as he was rounding the corner at the end of the block, Lola, Keegan, Patricia and Mary were coming out of the house five dwellings down in the opposite direction.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

At 2:20pm Monday afternoon, Cassidy arrived outside of Jeremiah Kingston’s home. Wary of the danger that she could be in if Jeremiah was a vampire and if Tony McGuire was inside, Cassidy chose to sit in her car and watch from a short distance down the street. She was hoping to see some sign that Tony was in the house. Cassidy knew what type of car both men drove, and she knew the faces of Charlie and Ben. She maintained a distant examination for ten minutes, and then she got out of her car.

Cassidy noticed that an elderly woman who apparently lived in the house next to Jeremiah’s was sweeping her porch. The lack of movement in or around Jeremiah’s house and the absence of any cars parked in front or in the driveway emboldened Cassidy. She strolled down the street, walked past Jeremiah’s house and then went up the walkway to the elderly lady’s home.

“Hi,” Cassidy called out as she approached the steps to the porch.

The elderly woman was very cognizant of Cassidy’s approach, she first noticed her several houses down and followed her approach from that moment. When Cassidy started up her walkway, the elderly woman immediately stopped sweeping and went to the top of the porch stairs with a smile on her face. It was obvious to Cassidy that the elderly woman was happy for the attention that was about to be paid to her.

“Good morning,” the elderly woman responded with a broad smile.

“I was wondering if I could speak to you for a moment,” Cassidy softly asked while she discretely displayed her detective’s badge.

“Oh, okay,” the elderly woman responded with a look of excitement. “Please,” she nodded while encouraging Cassidy up the stairs with a hand gesture.

Cassidy quickly ascended the stairs. When she reached the porch, Cassidy politely asked if they could go inside to talk. The elderly woman pleasantly agreed with an eager smile. When they were inside, Cassidy displayed her badge again and inquired to whom she was speaking.

“Oh, I’m Ellen Richardson—Mrs.,” she quickly added with a smile. “My husband passed away a few years back—cancer.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Richardson,” Cassidy returned.

Cassidy thought it best not to give her name, because she was there in an unofficial capacity. It was her hope that Mrs. Richardson did not get a good look at her identification.

“It was slow and painful,” Mrs. Richardson somberly offered about her husband’s illness before Cassidy could say more. “But he’s passed now and at rest.”

“Yes,” Cassidy responded with an approving look. “Mrs. Richardson,” she quickly continued before Ellen could say something else. “Can I talk to you about your neighbor, Mr. Kingston?”

“Oh, sure,” Ellen returned with a bright expression. “Is he in any trouble?” Ellen asked with eagerness.

“No,” Cassidy promptly answered. “But I do have some concerns about the company he’s keeping,” Cassidy added delicately.

“Oh, me too,” Ellen gravely responded. “He’s been having strange people coming and going inside his home for weeks,” she added with a disapproving tone.

“So, that’s not normal?” Cassidy inquired for clarification.

“Oh, no,” Ellen immediately insisted. “He used to be such a quiet man, but not anymore.

“Have you seen this man,” Cassidy asked while displaying the picture of Tony McGuire on her tablet.

Ellen wore her glasses on a chain that hung around her neck. After placing the glasses on her face, she began scrutinizing the image.

“No, I can't say that I recognize him,” she returned after a brief examination.

“How about this man?” Cassidy asked after swiping over to the image of Charles Panko on her tablet.

“No,” Ellen responded after a close look.

“How about this man?” Cassidy asked after changing the image to Ben Dalby.

“No, I’m sorry,” Ellen answered after a brief look. “I don’t see things to well at a distance, and new faces just blend together into a blur. I have to see people up close to remember them.”

“Has there been anything strange about Mr. Kingston's visitors lately,” Cassidy inquired while putting her tablet into her messenger bag.

“Well, they have been a little noisy—especially this morning,” Ellen confirmed after a moment of thought. “You should have heard the racket they were making,” she added with an animated display of amazement. “And they're in and out at late hours. Sometimes they're people in there when Mr. Kingston isn't even at home.”

“Have you noticed anything else unusual going on next door?” Cassidy inquired hoping that Ellen would provide her with information that she did not know to ask for.

“Yeah, the women,” Ellen quickly returned with a look of astonishment.

“What about the women?” Cassidy asked with a fixed stare.

“Well, it's just that I'm not used to seeing women visiting Mr. Kingston,” Ellen explained with a mix of amazement and disbelief.

“Are there any women there now?” Cassidy quickly leaned in to ask.

“Oh, I don't think anyone is there now,” An astounded Ellen answered with a shake of her head. “The cars are gone, and I saw them leaving. It’s been quiet over there for several hours now.”

“And you’re sure they’ve all left?” Cassidy questioned in a manner that said she needed Ellen to be careful with her answer.

“I think so,” Ellen answered right away. “All the cars are gone; it’s been quiet in there ever since I saw them leave a few hours ago.”

“So, you saw them all leave?” Cassidy challenged with eagerness.

“Well, I didn’t see who left,” Ellen returned with a shrug. “And I don’t know who all was inside, but several of them left in Mr. Kingston’s car, and it’s been quiet over there ever since,” she defended. “The only thing I’ve heard coming from over there since they left is the phone ringing,” she finalized with a dismissive wave of her hand. 

“The phone?” Cassidy quickly latched onto. “Did someone answer the ring.”

“Oh no,” Ellen dismissed with a shake of her head. “It rang seven times. Mr. Kingston never lets his telephone ring more than five times when he’s home. His answering machine picks it up after the seventh ring,” she added with a confident nod of her head. “Nobody is there, I’m sure of that.”

Cassidy did not know what more to ask after Ellen’s last revelation. Nothing that she said convinced Cassidy 100% that Jeremiah was the Jerry she was looking for, and that worried her. Cassidy did not want to steer one or more man eating vampires toward the wrong person, but Ellen’s knowledge of the comings and goings of the house did convince her that no one was inside. Believing that she had extracted all the useful information that Ellen had, Cassidy politely excused herself from her home. Cassidy was on her way back to her car when she stopped on the sidewalk in front of Jeremiah Kingston house. For several seconds she pondered a risky option, and, in the end, Cassidy elected to take the gamble.

In one quick movement, Cassidy turned and started up the walkway to the front door of the house. Instinctively, Cassidy knew that boldness was the key to convincing the occupants of the house, if any, that she was a police officer responding to a stranger lurking in the neighborhood. She had no intention of ringing the bell or knocking on the door, but that was the excuse she planned to give if someone came out of the house. What she did plan to do was peek into the front window of the house. That plan disappeared the instant she stepped onto the porch.

When Cassidy saw the busted front door, she suspected something criminal had transpired that morning. Ellen’s report of a racket coming from inside the house supported her suspicion. Now armed with the excuse of probable cause, Cassidy brought her handgun to the ready, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“Police officer, is there anyone inside the house?” Cassidy called out in a loud voice.

Cassidy stood a few feet in from the door and listened for several seconds. When no response to her call came back, she tried the same call a second and third time with the same results. Convinced that there was no one inside who was conscious or able to respond to her hail, Cassidy began to move deeper into the house at a cautious pace and with her gun at the ready. She soon made her way to the kitchen entrance and then froze with shock. An audible gasp escaped from her mouth in response to what she was seeing.

Cassidy was looking at a dismembered body in a pool of blood in an area heavily splattered with arterial spray. When she maneuvered to get a better look at the face on the detached head, she immediately matched the victim with the driver’s license picture of Jeremiah Kingston. At that moment, Cassidy knew that this man was the Jerry that the Dacia Vampires were looking for. Her police officer training was telling her that she should call in to the nearest precinct and request backup, but her instinct told her that was a bad idea. Leaving this mess for the Dacia Vampires to clean up seemed the better option if she wanted to keep vampires a secret from all other humans. Cassidy quickly concluded that finding Tony McGuire, Patricia Boyd and any other newborn vampires was now the task before her and that bringing in the police would alert these vampires that they were being hunted. She also calculated that not calling for police backup placed her in a complicated situation.

Without police backup racing to her location, Cassidy knew she was in danger while she was alone in that house. There was also the problem of waiting for the Dacia Vampires to help with the search. She knew that assistance from them was close to an hour away, and if there was a sleeping vampire in the house that was time she could not afford to waste. That possibility notwithstanding, Cassidy was doubtful that a sleeping vampire was in a house with a busted front door lock and a dead body lying on the kitchen floor. Motivated by a need to get information on Tony McGuire’s present location before he could find a new place to hide and after toying with the idea of calling the Dacia Vampires, Cassidy decided to search the house now, alone and quickly.

Moving as fast as she dared but carefully, Cassidy went through the house floor by floor and room by room with her handgun forever at the ready. She started with the upstairs bedrooms and worked her way down to the basement. She found no sleeping vampires or any information about where they might be. When she went back up to the entry level floor, Cassidy went into the room that Jeremiah used as his study. She knew there was no one inside this room, she had looked inside before going down to the basement. Her intention now was to search for anything that might tell her where Anthony McGuire might be. She quickly went to the desk and began examining the paperwork she saw there. After several seconds of looking, she noticed invoices with identical delivery addresses that were not to the house she was in. The thought that Tony McGuire could be hiding in a building under construction did not make since to her. She dismissed it as nothing worthy of her attention and continued to look through the paperwork. Shortly, Cassidy activated the answering machine on the desk and was instantly shocked by the first voice she heard. She immediately recognized Tony McGuire as the speaker.

_“Jerry, I want you back here tomorrow night. We’re going to be clearing out of here and I need you to lock up the site.”_

The phrase, ‘lock up the site,’ instantly turned Cassidy’s attention back to the invoice and the building that Jeremiah was renovating. It made sense to her that a building under construction would be referred to as a site. It also made sense to her that Jeremiah would be needed to lock up a building he was renovating. Cassidy stopped her search a second later and pulled out her cellphone as she exited the study.

“Don't you ever sleep?” Cassidy spoke into her cellphone after _Nadja_ answered _Cristiãn_ ’s cellphone for a second time that day.

“It's my day to be awake,” _Nadja_ glumly returned. “What do you want now?”

“I think I found your Jerry,” Cassidy announced with a hint of smugness.

_Nadja_ was startled into a silence after hearing Cassidy’s claim.

“We need you to be sure,” _Nadja_ returned after her moment of silence.

“Well, his name is Jeremiah Kingston,” Cassidy countered in a glib voice. “He and Tony McGuire graduated from the same high school and in the same year. I think I just heard Tony’s voice on his answering machine, and he referred to Jeremiah as Jerry. Oh, and I'm looking at Jeremiah Kingston's decapitated body on his kitchen floor right now,” Cassidy finished while standing at the kitchen doorway.

“You need to get out of there,” _Nadja_ insisted with alarm in her voice.

“The house is empty,” Cassidy replied dismissively and just as she started focusing her eyes on keys on the floor next to Jeremiah. “I already checked.”

“Just the same, you need to give me the address and leave,” _Nadja_ spoke with urgency.

“I am leaving. I need to find Tony McGuire before the sun goes down,” Cassidy argued back as she walked over to Jeremiah’s torso. “You're useless in the sunlight.”

_Nadja_ was confused by Cassidy’s last remark. The impression she got from her statement was that Cassidy had another location to search and that she was going there now.

“What do you mean?” _Nadja_ challenged in a stern voice.

“I’ve got an address, and I think McGuire might be there,” Cassidy explained while stooping down to pick up Jeremiah’s keys. “I'll text you both addresses and I'll call you if I find Tony,” she finished and then disconnected the call.

“Cassidy…” _Nadja_ screamed into the cellphone just as the connection cut off.


	34. A Call to Arms

It was mid-afternoon when _Nadja_ answered Cassidy's phone call to _Cristiãn_ 's cellphone. After Cassidy disconnected, _Nadja_ jumped into action.

“Cassidy is danger,” _Nadja_ yelled after running into _Cristiãn_ 's bedroom. “She found Jerry and she's on her way to the location where she thinks McGuire is hiding. I’m sending the address to your cellphone. I'm taking the car and I'm going there now.”

_Cristiãn_ neither awakened nor reacted to _Nadja_ 's words, but that is what she expected. _Nadja_ knew that _Cristiãn_ was more than a dozen minutes away from returning to consciousness. She expected his subconscious mind to slowly assimilate her words into perceptible information. Once that happened, she expected a gradual acceleration of his heartbeat until enough blood flowed into his brain to bring him back to consciousness.

After speaking her message to _Cristiãn_ , _Nadja_ hurried into the bedroom she shared with _Petru_ and repeated the message to her sleeping mate. Then she went to the refrigerator in the kitchen and grabbed a water bottle full of blood. She went to the living room and grabbed a wide-brim hat, sunglasses and key she left there from her earlier meeting with Cassidy. Then she raced out of the apartment. A call to _Stefan_ on her way down to the garage was the first link in a communication relay to all the other Dacia Vampires in New York.

“Where’s _Petru_ and _Cristian_?” Stefan anxiously queried.

“They’re coming behind,” _Nadja_ returned.

“Good, I’ll send _Radu_ and _Flavia_ to you,” Stefan delegated in an authoritative tone. “ _Sorin_ and _Adrianna_ will go to the other address with me and _Helga_.”

By the time she was turning David’s car out onto the street, all the Dacia Vampires in New York were either making preparations to leave or rousing from their sleep. _Nadja_ believed it imperative that she go to Cassidy’s aid because she was the first in motion, and it was her understanding that _Stefan_ , _Helga_ , _Sorin_ and _Adrianna_ had to hurry to the other address to dispose of Jeremiah’s remains before anyone else could find it.

_Nadja_ was racing through the streets of New York on a direct course for the construction site address that Cassidy sent her. As she drove, _Nadja_ made multiple attempts to call Cassidy. Each call out to Cassidy’s cellphone went to voicemail. After three attempts, she abandoned the effort and focused all her attention to driving as fast as she could without drawing attention to herself. It was almost ten minutes later when _Nadja_ got her first text from Cassidy.

Cassidy: _I’m here._

_Nadja_ quickly picked up her cellphone when she heard the alert. It took her a couple of seconds to read the message, and then she began responding to it by tapping a text into her cellphone with the thumb of one hand while driving with the other hand.

_Nadja_ : _Do not go inside._

_Nadja_ put her cellphone down on the passenger seat and went back to driving with two hands. A little more than a minute passed when another text came in. _Nadja_ picked up her cellphone to read it.

Cassidy: _Seeing no activity. Going to the back._

Once again, _Nadja_ began tapping a reply text into cellphone after reading Cassidy’s message.

_Nadja_ : _Stay out._

After sending her text, _Nadja_ set the cellphone down and went back to driving with both hands and all her attention. Several minutes later another text came in, and _Nadja_ snatched up her cellphone to read it.

Cassidy: _I’m inside._

_Nadja_ ’s alarm was noticeable in her expression. She quickly started typing in her reply and her driving suffered a little for the distraction. _Nadja_ managed to make a quick correction for the sloppiness in her driving and continued to negotiate her way through traffic while sending out her text.

_Nadja_ : _Get out, now._

_Nadja_ held her cellphone in her hand for nearly three minutes while she waited for a reply, and then she set it down and put all her concentration back into her driving. She had been driving for nearly five minutes when her cellphone began ringing. _Nadja_ picked it up and saw that it was Cassidy calling in.

“He’s here,” Cassidy whispered through _Nadja_ ’s speakerphone app, “McGuire, Charlie Panko, Ben Dalby and another guy I’ve never seen before. They’re asleep, I think.”

“Cassidy you need to get out of there,” _Nadja_ instructed in a commanding tone.

“They look dead,” Cassidy reported with indifference to _Nadja_ ’s warning.

“They’re not dead,” _Nadja_ roared toward her cellphone. “They can hear everything you say. They’re brains are working in slow motion. You need to get out of there.”

“How slow?” Cassidy sharply questioned. “How much time do I have?”

“I don’t know,” _Nadja_ answered with a mix of anger and confusion in her voice, “ten minutes, twenty, more—less. It all depends.”

_Nadja_ ’s answer reflected her ignorance of the state that McGuire, Ben and Charlie were in at that moment. She knew that their minds and bodies could have started the process of awakening five minutes ago.

“I can’t let them wake up,” Cassidy declared after a moment of silence. “What can I do?” She nearly pleaded through the phone connection.

“What’s wrong with you?” _Nadja_ shouted toward her cellphone with an intonation of astonishment. “You—are—in—danger!”

“My city is in danger,” Cassidy immediately rifled back through the cellphone. “And I’m the only person here. You need to tell me what to do.”

“Cassidy,” _Nadja_ yelled at her cellphone. “If they wake up, they will kill you. They’ve heard you by now. You’ve got to get out of there.”

“That’s all the more reason why I have to do something now,” Cassidy argued through the phone. “I can’t let them get away. There’s got to be something I can do.”

_Nadja_ could hear that Cassidy was determined to act against Tony McGuire and the two other vampires with him. She concluded that helping Cassidy to quickly do what she was determined to do was the only way to help her stay alive.

“If you impale something into their hearts, it will stop them from sending blood to their brains,” _Nadja_ advised reluctantly. “They won’t be able to wake up,”

For a few minutes, _Nadja_ listened to the sounds of Cassidy moving about and breathing heavily. On several occasions _Nadja_ urged her to hurry.

“You’re running out of time,” _Nadja_ finally yelled into her cellphone.

“I found a nail gun,” Cassidy responded directly back. “Will that do?”

“I don’t know,” _Nadja_ wondered aloud. “I suppose it will work if the nails are long enough and they actually go into the heart, but you should use more than one for each of them.”

“How many?” Cassidy asked.

“I don’t know,” _Nadja_ quickly returned. “Four—five, just make sure they go deep into their chests.”

After hearing _Nadja_ ’s instruction, Cassidy said nothing for several seconds. Only the sound of her moving and breathing could be heard over the cellphone connection.

“How do I know that they’re really vampires?” Cassidy’s words suddenly came through the cellphone.

“Are you kidding me?” _Nadja_ screamed at her cellphone. “If they’re not vampires then they would have awakened by now.”

“They could be drugged,” Cassidy countered through the cellphone in a hushed voice. “I mean if they’re not vampires this will kill them.”

_Nadja_ was infuriated by Cassidy’s hesitation. In her mind this situation was exactly why Cassidy should have left it to them. She knew that she would be able to smell the difference between human and vampire.

“Get out of there!” _Nadja_ roared at her cellphone.

“Tell me something,” Cassidy demand back.

_Nadja_ was momentarily confounded by the request. She knew that breaking the skin, the usual test that the vampire hunters employed, would not work while a vampire was asleep. Their ability to rapidly heal would be moving just as slowly as their brains were. After a moment of thought an idea came to her.

“Check for a pulse,” _Nadja_ said in a rush. “If you don’t get a pulse, they’re either vampires or they’re already dead.”

Once again, Cassidy gave no response for several seconds.

“Okay,” Cassidy spoke at the end of a pause. “No heart beat.”

Before _Nadja_ could say anything in response, she heard a rapid succession of five muffled thumps.

“I think it worked,” Cassidy exclaimed through the cellphone. “Hold on.”

Several seconds later another succession of six muffled rapid thumps could be heard.

“Two down,” Cassidy spoke to _Nadja_ through the cellphone connection.

Once again, a few seconds passed and then another rapid succession of muffled thumps could be heard through _Nadja_ ’s cellphone speaker.

“That’s three,” Cassidy reported. “One more to go.”

Several seconds of silence followed behind Cassidy’s last remark. _Nadja_ listened to the sound of her movement and her breathing, and then she heard Cassidy scream. A couple of seconds later the line disconnected. 

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

It was late in the afternoon when Cassidy arrived outside of the commercial building that Jeremiah was renovating. She looked the building over as she drove by in her car, and then she turned the corner at the end of the block and parked. The building was a short walk from the intersection, and she quickly crossed the distance. Cassidy began texting to _Nadja_ ’s cellphone the instant she got out of the car. At first, she paid no attention to _Nadja_ ’s return text. Cassidy’s texts were sent as reports on what she was doing and where she was at. She ignored _Nadja_ ’s repeated calls that she stay away from Tony McGuire.

Cassidy’s reason for pushing forward to find Tony McGuire was because of her fear of what would happen if the world found out that vampires did exist. She knew that the Dacia Vampires were ill equipped to do the footwork that needed to be done at this time of day, and she needed Tony McGuire off the streets as soon as possible. It was the killing of the prostitute that made his death an imperative for her. The woman’s murder weighed heavy on Cassidy’s mind. The thought of people being killed by vampires while she was keeping their existence a secret from the world was quickly growing into a persistent pang in her conscience. Cassidy rationalized that even the Dacia Vampires were better insulated against culpability than she. For them, the secret of their existence was survival, but for her, it was a choice. To Cassidy, the responsibility for stopping Tony McGuire and ending the threat from him and and any vampire offspring he may have had grown to be more hers than anyone else’s.

The first thing that Cassidy noticed about the building was the chain and padlock secured through the nine-inch pull handles on the double doors to the entrance and that the large front windows and frames were note in place. The openings for the windows and frames were boarded over from the inside. She thought to try Jeremiah’s keys on the lock but immediately reconsidered. She worried that the front doors would be an obvious entry point, so she turned her attention to the parking lot side of the building. As Cassidy started down along the side of the building, she sent another text report to _Nadja_. Near the back end of the building, Cassidy passed a single loading dock with its roll-down garage door shut. Next to the dock was a regular walk-in metal door. Cassidy stopped just outside that door, listened for nearly a minute and when she heard nothing from the other side, she tried the doorknob and discovered it locked.

Cassidy was convinced, to a large extent, that there was no one moving about on the other side of the metal door and that it was safe for her to enter. After listening at the door, she pulled Jeremiah’s keys out of her jacket pocket and started trying them on the top deadbolt lock one at a time. The first four keys failed to go into the lock’s keyhole, but the fifth slipped in without any resistance. When Cassidy turned the key, the deadbolt slid back. She then directed her efforts to the keyhole in the doorknob: the eighth key she tried slipped right in. After Cassidy unlocked both locks, she slowly swung the door open while taking her gun from its holster. She entered the building when the opening was just wide enough for her to step through.

After entering the building, Cassidy closed the door behind her and stood silent. Despite the darkness inside the room, she recognized that she was in a storage area. Sunlight emanating through a small rectangular window high up on the wall provided just enough illumination for her to see the building materials and equipment stored there. She also noticed a table setup with bottles of alcohol, sodas and plastic cups. While she listened for sounds within the building, Cassidy pulled out her cellphone and sent another text to _Nadja_. When she finished sending her text, she started moving deeper into the building with her gun at the ready.

Moving slowly and quietly, Cassidy went through the doorway that led to the main room. Like the storage area, light was diffused from a pair of rectangular windows high on the wall, partially illuminating the room. The large windows at the front were boarded over. Newly installed drywall was everywhere; some walls were painted. The room was a work in progress. Cassidy gave little notice to the condition of the room. What caught her attention was the absence of anyone inside the room. After a brief examination of the large empty space, she turned her attention toward the stairs and the mezzanine level over the storage room.

With careful steps, Cassidy ascended the stairs to the mezzanine level as quietly as she could. When she reached the top of the stairs, she paused to listen for sound from the two rooms that opened out onto the balcony of the mezzanine. There were no doors in place for the rooms and there were large square cutouts in the wall for windows and frames for each room. After listening a few seconds and hearing nothing, Cassidy moved quietly along the balcony until she came to the first doorway. When she looked around the corner, she saw an empty room that had recently been painted. After a moment of looking inside the room, she softly moved on to the next doorway, peeked inside room and caught her breath.

The sight of four men lying still on cots surprised Cassidy even though she was looking for something exactly like that. She hesitated to go in for fear that her movement inside the room might wake them. She quickly rationalized that they must be vampires and were not going to suddenly awaken because of a sound she made in the moment. She also concluded that time was not on her side, and then turned around the corner and went into the room.

Cassidy went up to the cot closes to the door, pulled out her cellphone, activated the flashlight app and examined the face of the first man. At a glance, she was not familiar with him, but after a close examination, she recognized him as either Tony McGuire or possibly his son. In appearance, he looked to be thirty to forty years younger than Tony McGuire’s true age. After giving the first man a quick examination, Cassidy took his picture and then did abbreviated exams of the next two men down. She quickly identified both as Charlie Panko and Ben Dalby. She remembered them from the time that Razvan and Dumitra had her kidnapped and brought to them. She had since examined mugshots from their past. They both looked decidedly younger, but they still looked like themselves. Cassidy took their pictures in turn, then went to the fourth at the end cot and farthest from the door. She examined that man but had no recollection of having ever seen him before, which caused her to give extra time to his examination. When she was done looking him over, she took his picture. Then she took a pair of ear buds for her cellphone out of her blazer pocket, put them in her ears and dialed _Nadja_.

“He’s here,” Cassidy whispered quickly into the ear bud mic the instant _Nadja_ answered her call, “McGuire, Charlie Panko, Ben Dalby and another guy I’ve never seen before. They’re asleep, I think.”

Cassidy moved to the room’s entrance as she spoke to give distance between her and the sleeping men. She was doubtful that the distance made any difference other than being a comfort to her.

“Cassidy you need to get out of there,” _Nadja_ instructed through the cellphone connection.

“They look dead,” Cassidy reported as she looked the four men over from a distance.

“They’re not dead,” _Nadja_ bellowed through the cellphone. “They can hear everything you say. They’re brains are working in slow motion. You need to get out of there.”

“How slow?” Cassidy quickly asked. “How much time do I have?”

“I don’t know,” _Nadja_ returned confused, “ten minutes, twenty, more—less. It all depends.”

Cassidy paused to look at the four men. _Nadja_ ’s report worried her, but it also added importance to the moment. She did not want to lose this opportunity.

“I can’t let them wake up,” Cassidy declared after her moment of silence. “What can I do?” She nearly pleaded through the phone.

“What’s wrong with you?” _Nadja_ blasted through the cellphone. “You—are—in—danger!”

“My city is in danger,” Cassidy growled into her cellphone in a hushed tone of voice. “And I’m the only person here. You need to tell me what to do.”

“Cassidy,” _Nadja_ yelled. “If they wake up, they will kill you,” she emphasized with vehemence. “They’ve heard you by now. You’ve got to get out of there,” she finished in a near pleading tone.

“That’s all the more reason why I have to do something now,” Cassidy argued back. “I can’t let them get away. There’s got to be something I can do.”

Cassidy waited impatiently across a prolonged pause. She worried that _Nadja_ was not going to advise her, and she feared that she might disconnect the call with disgust.

“If you impale something into their hearts, it will stop the blood from flowing to their brains,” _Nadja_ advised after several seconds of silence. “They won’t be able to wake up.”

Cassidy’s mind instantly went to the building materials and equipment she saw in the main room and storage area downstairs. After a moment of thought, she raced down to the main room and started looking for anything that could be used as a stake. She examined a couple of sticks with tapered ends, but both appeared to be too dull for the task that she needed them to do. In less than a minute of searching, Cassidy raced off to the storage room and scoured the area. Her attention quickly focused in on a large metal job site storage chest. The container looked large enough for two people to scrunch together inside with the lid closed. Cassidy hurried over to it only to discover a large, heavy padlock securing it. She quickly retrieved Jeremiah’s keys from her pocket and tried them on the lock. To her surprise, the fourth key slid in, and with a twist, the lock opened. She quickly opened the storage chest and illuminated the interior with her cellphone light. Her eyes roamed over a couple of screwdrivers and putty knives, but she quickly homed in on a battery powered nail gun.

Cassidy pocketed the keys and her cellphone then gave the nail gun a brief examination. She found the on switch and activated it, taking note of the light when she switched it on. She then pressed the nail gun against the drywall behind the chest and squeezed the trigger. A nail immediately blasted out of the gun and all the way into the drywall. Cassidy instantly raced off with the nail gun. She hurried back up the stairs to the mezzanine level and into the room with the four men on cots, just as she had left them. She paused to consider what she was about to do. Her mind went to the one man in the room that she had never seen before. She wondered who he was and what he was. As she stood there thinking, she heard _Nadja’s_ voice reverberating from the cellphone in her blazer pocket.

“You’re running out of time.”

“I found a nail gun,” Cassidy whispered at her ear bud mic. “Will that do?”

“I don’t know,” _Nadja_ replied indecisively. “I suppose it will work if the nails are long enough and they actually go into the heart, but you should use more than one for each of them.”

“How many?” Cassidy questioned as she moved toward the cot furthest from the door.

“I don’t know,” _Nadja_ answered with a who knows intonation. “Four—five, just make sure they go deep into their chests.”

Even as _Nadja_ was speaking, Cassidy was moving alongside the cot of the man that she did not recognize. His identity was bothering her. She knew that impaling a nail in a vampire was not enough to kill him or her. _Nadja_ had just told her that much. What Cassidy did know on her own was that a nail through the heart of a human would likely kill him or her, and that was an error she did not want to make. Her plan was to incapacitate the vampires until the Dacia Vampires could collect and dispose of them as needed. The one thing she did not want to do was kill a human.

“How do I know that they’re really vampires?” Cassidy whispered into her ear bud mic.

“Are you kidding me?” Cassidy heard _Nadja_ screaming back in her ears. “If they’re not vampires then they would have awakened by now.”

“They could be drugged,” Cassidy challenged in a hushed tone of voice. “I mean if they’re not vampires this will kill them.”

Cassidy continued to look down at the man below her as she waited for _Nadja_ ’s response.

“Get out of there!” _Nadja_ instructed after a pause.

“Tell me something,” Cassidy quickly countered with anger.

Once again, Cassidy waited for a reply that was slow in coming.

“Check for a pulse,” _Nadja_ instructed. “If you don’t get a pulse, they’re either vampires or they’re already dead.”

Cassidy reached down and checked for a pulse in the carotid artery of the man she did not know. This was nothing new for her. Checking people for a pulse was part of her police officer training. She held two of her fingers against his neck and applied a slight amount of pressure. After several seconds of nothing, Cassidy pulled her hand away. She felt no pulse and the man did not awaken.

“Okay,” Cassidy reported with a hint of relief and as she readied the nail against the stranger’s chest. “No heart beat.”

A second later, Cassidy rifled five nails into the stranger’s left chest. She was relieved by the absence of any response from him, and she let out a sigh of relief.

“I think it worked,” Cassidy softly exclaimed. “Hold on,” she continued while hurrying about to the next cot.

Cassidy quickly thumped six nails into the left chest of Ben Dalby.

“Two down,” Cassidy announced as she hurried around to the third cot.

Without the slightest hesitation, Cassidy thumped seven nails into the left chest of Charlie Panko, and just as before there was no reaction.

“That’s three,” Cassidy declared while hurrying around to Tony McGuire’s cot. “One more to go.”

Cassidy had just reached the head of the cot when Tony McGuire’s eyes suddenly opened. The sight of Tony’s eyes staring up at the ceiling shocked her into a dead stop. For an instant, she did not know what to do, but she lunged at Tony with the nail gun anyway. Just as she was about to ram the nail gun against Tony’s chest, he reached up with his left hand and grabbed Cassidy’s right wrist, swiftly steering the nail gun away while simultaneously reaching up with his right hand and grabbing her by the throat. Her yell for help was stopped by the powerful grip that suddenly choked off her voice. Tony sat up while maintaining his grip on Cassidy. He swung his feet to the floor and stood up while lifting Cassidy off the floor by her neck. As she struggled to breathe, Tony examined her with an amused expression.

“Detective Cassidy Tremaine, we meet again,” Tony greeted with a smile of satisfaction.

Cassidy could not respond to Tony; she was too busy trying to breathe. Motivated by her need to get free of Tony’s grip, she braced her right foot against Tony’s left thigh and quickly wrenched her right wrist free from his left hand. As she freed her wrist, she immediately thrust the nail gun against his left eye and fired. Tony screamed in anguish, twisting his head to the right and knocking the nail gun out of Cassidy’s right hand with his left. Still gripping her by the throat, furious and in pain, Tony fumed at Cassidy through his right eye while blood streamed from his left. He quickly noticed Cassidy reach for her holstered handgun. He reached down with his free left hand and ripped her gun from her right hand and tossed it out the opening in the wall for the window. The gun sailed over the balcony and fell to the floor of the main room below. After tossing the gun, Tony finally released his grip on Cassidy’s throat by tossing her over the cot and onto the floor.

Cassidy was dazed by her fall to the floor. By the time her wits had returned to her, Tony was standing in front of her and a half dozen feet back. Cassidy watched as he pulled the nail out from his left eye socket, and she noted the anguish he endured as he did it. She wanted to get up and run past him, but Tony was directly between her and the doorway. She suspected that standing up would motivate Tony to react defensively, and she was doubtful that an attempt to run past him would be successful. An alternative to trying to fight her way past Tony popped into her mind, and she surreptitiously reached into her jacket pocket as she waited for Tony to make the first move. As she waited, she watched Tony’s left eye gradually repair itself.

“Aren’t I magnificent?” Tony growled with satisfaction several seconds later.

Tony’s left eye was fully reformed, and he was visibly pleased by its return.

“I see you got your wish,” Cassidy scoffed. “You’re a vampire.”

“Strength. Immortality,” Tony gloated with his arms spread wide. “I’m what everyone like you are going to wish they could be.”

“Soon, you’re going to be dead,” Cassidy disputed as she maneuvered herself into a crouch. “By this time tomorrow every law enforcement agency in the country is going to be looking for you. You won’t be able to show your face in public.”

Tony chuckled in response to Cassidy’s threat.

“I’m going to own the cops,” Tony declared with an excess of confidence. “But you’re not going to be one of them,” he continued while stepping forward with his hands out toward Cassidy.

The moment Tony moved in for the kill, Cassidy used her thumb to flip off the cap to a small container in her hand, and before Tony could grab her, she tossed the powdery contents into his face. Tony instantly began to gag from the smell of the mustard seed powder. His eyes began to burn, forcing him to close them. He stumbled backward coughing and wheezing and waving his hands, trying to disburse the caustic powder from his face. Cassidy took advantage of the opportunity she created and raced past Tony and out the doorway. She ran down the stairs in a desperate effort to recover her gun. As she searched for her handgun, Tony leaped over the mezzanine balcony to the ground floor. Cassidy’s path to the backdoor that she came through was now blocked by a mostly blind and wheezing Tony.

“Where do you think you’re going, bitch,” Tony growled ferociously.

It was clear to Cassidy that he did not know exactly where she was in the darkened room and with his eyes still burning from the mustard seed powder. She stood still out of fear that he would hear her and began using small movements of her head to look for her gun in the dimly lit room. A few seconds into her search, Tony's vision began to improve. Cassidy knew that time was not on her side and she began moving toward the front of the building and the padlocked doors.

“There you are,” Tony spoke with a sinister glee.

Tony turned his gaze directly at Cassidy as he spoke. He started moving toward the shadowy blur in his vision.

“It’s not going to be that easy this time, Detective,” Tony hissed.

As Tony moved toward Cassidy, she moved toward the front doors. After a few steps, Cassidy turned and began pushing against the doors and the padlocked chain that was holding them shut. When the door refused to open, Cassidy turned her attention to the boarded window to the right of the door. Tony was now just a few steps away from her. Just as Cassidy turned to grapple with the boarding that was nailed over the window openings, the front doors of the building were ripped open by a third party. The sudden flood of light onto Tony’s face seared into his already damaged eyes. The best that he could see was a dark fuzzy silhouette in front of a blazing glow of white light.


	35. Sarah and Kenneth

It was mid-Monday morning when Kenneth and Sarah Price arrived at the home Beau Stratham shared with his mother, Kimberly Stratham. Kimberly Stratham was in her late fifties, but she looked to be in her seventies due to a health issue: she was dying of cancer. Beau moved back into his childhood home 19 months earlier to care for his mother. The house they shared was a two-story, four-bedroom single-family home in Brooklyn. A narrow driveway led to the garage in the backyard. Beau parked his van in the driveway and next to the back door at the side of the house.

“Okay, we’re here,” Beau reported as he turned to face his guest in the back of his van with curiosity and concern. “Are you sure you guys are okay?” he asked.

“Yes, Beau, we’re okay,” Kenneth returned with insistence.

“You sure?” Beau tossed out again. “Because I can’t bring an illness into the house. My mother can’t handle it.”

“Kimberly will be fine,” Kenneth responded with exasperation. “We’re not contagious.”

Despite Sarah’s slimmer appearance, Beau was concerned about the gauntness of her physique. Sarah’s disheveled appearance along with their strange behavior added to his concern that something unhealthy was amiss.

“We need your help,” Sarah softly pleaded. “That’s all we’re asking for. It’s temporary, I promise.”

Beau had no defense against the pleas of Sarah Price. His fondness for her went back to their first meeting years ago, and her present condition produced a protective feeling within him. After a brief hesitation, Beau climbed out of his van and instructed Kenneth and Sarah to follow. Kenneth quickly countermanded Beau’s direction and instructed him to go open the door to the house. Beau did as he was instructed without question, and then he ushered Sarah and Kenneth into the house and down into the basement.

After descending the basement stairs, Kenneth and Sarah found themselves in a cozy little family room complete with a well-furnished sitting area—sofa, coffee table, two armchairs and colorful area rug beneath it all—just to the right of the stairs. An entertainment center with a large flat screen TV was situated beside staircase facing the sofa. A narrow laundry room with a sliding door was located at the bottom and just left of the stairs, extending back toward the rear wall. There were two sets of four small rectangular windows set high on both sides of the room with decorative little curtains that ran the length of each wall. The curtains were closed, which diffused most of the light coming into the room, but two of the curtains inside the laundry and its sliding door were open, which caused extreme irritation to Kenneth and Sarah’s eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Beau questioned in response to their obvious expressions of discomfort.

“Close the curtains,” Kenneth commanded as he looked down and away from the left wall.

Beau quickly followed the instruction he was given and closed all the curtains and the sliding door to the laundry. He then stood in front of Kenneth and Sarah on the opposite side of the coffee table with his hands on his hips.

“You know, I can’t help you guys if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” Beau exclaimed.

“I’m not sure I know what happened,” Kenneth returned with a disbelieving shake of his head.

“Well, I think you should go to an emergency room,” Beau declared with a knowing look.

“No!” Sarah quickly contested.

“You really do look ill, Mrs. Price,” Beau nearly pleaded.

“We’re not sick, Beau,” Kenneth disputed. “We’re hungry,” he asserted. 

“You want something to eat?” Beau asked with a surprised inflection.

“Yes,” Sarah quickly supported.

Beau needed no more convincing than Sarah’s plaintive request for food to put him into motion. He promptly went back up the basement stairs to search for something for them eat. As Kenneth and Sarah listened to his moving around in the kitchen, they soon heard Kimberly Stratham come down from her bedroom to the kitchen. She inquired who was in the house, and Beau reported that he had friends in the basement and that he was getting them something to eat. Kimberly promptly shooed him away from the chore that he was undertaking and assumed the task. In roughly ten minutes time, Beau came back down into the basement with a platter containing two sandwiches, chips and two glasses of tea.

“My mom put this together for you,” Beau acknowledged as he approached the coffee table with the food.

Just as he was setting the platter down, Kimberly came halfway down the basement stairs dressed in a robe, a nightgown and slippers. She showed no visible signs of her illness, but everyone who knew her two years earlier could see how much older she looked.

“Would you like some macaroni and cheese?” Kimberly asked just as she stopped two-thirds of the way down the stairs. “It won’t take me long to heat it up,” she added with a look of intrigue.

“That’s okay, mom,” Beau quickly countered. “We’re okay.”

Kimberly ignored her son’s dismissal. The sight of Kenneth sitting on the sofa had her attention. She saw nothing different or peculiar about him from a distance, but she was curious to know who her son was feeding at that time of day. The act of entertaining guests with food and drink were usually planned and commonly centered around a televised sports event. Kimberly’s inclination toward being a busybody was behind her every action. She was particularly interested in the young woman sitting on the sofa with Kenneth. She was someone that Kimberly had never seen before.

“Hi, Kenneth,” Kimberly greeted with a smile.

Beau had just set the platter down on the table when Kimberly spoke. Kenneth ignored Kimberly’s greeting. He and Sarah were busy looking at the food before them as though it was something alien to them. As they peeked around the edges of the sandwiches, Beau and Kimberly were noticing their peculiar behavior.

“Is there something wrong with the sandwiches?” Kimberly asked with a confused expression.

Kenneth and Sarah continued to ignore their hosts as they examined the food by sight and smell. Soon they began to pick the sandwiches apart to get to the roast beef. Beau and Kimberly watched in surprise as Kenneth and Sarah devoured the beef the moment it was separated out of the sandwiches. They were even more surprised when Sarah doubled over as though she had eaten something extremely distasteful.

“Was there something wrong with the sandwich, Mrs. Price?” Beau quickly asked as he hurried to Sarah’s side.

Sarah suddenly grabbed Beau by the shirt and pulled him to within inches of her face with a powerful jerk.

“I need meat,” Sarah grumbled into Beau’s startled face.

“Okay,” Beau agreed as he tried to pull away.

Sarah maintained her hold onto Beau’s shirt after she spoke, and slowly she began to pull him in closer until the side of his neck was nearly touching the tip of her nose. The smell of blood coursing through his veins began to whet Sarah’s appetite, and she savored his scent. Her eyes began to glow from the light reflecting off them. Beau was too close to notice the illumination in Sarah’s eyes, but Kimberly saw it all and was amazed.

“Is there something wrong, Mrs. Price,” Beau nervously asked.

Sarah suddenly awakened from her fascination with Beau’s smell and shoved him away with a powerful push. Beau was lifted off his feet by the strength of the shove before stumbling backwards to the other side of the room.

“Oh my,” Kimberly acknowledged with a look of shock. 

“I’m sorry,” Sarah quickly responded while looking away in embarrassment.

“We need meat,” Kenneth insisted with a pleading look at Beau.

“Okay, I’ve got some steaks in the refrigerator,” Beau agreed with a dismayed shake of his head. “I’ll cook them for you.”

“No!” Kenneth and Sarah yelled in unison.

“Just bring them,” Kenneth insisted.

Beau agreed to Kenneth and Sarah’s request and ushered his mother back up the stairs when he set off to retrieve the steaks.

“Is that Kenneth’s mother?” Kimberly asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah,” Beau answered while taking the steaks from the refrigerator.

“But she doesn’t look old enough to be his mother,” Kimberly challenged in a hushed voice.

“She didn’t look that way when I saw her a few days ago,” Beau returned. “She lost a lot of weight,” he emphasized. “Ken lost weight too,” he finished with an intonation of disbelief.

“What’s wrong with them?” Kimberly asked in a voice heavily laced with concern.

“I don’t know, mom. I don’t know,” Beau responded as he started toward the basement stairs. “Stay here,” he instructed his mother just before stepping through the basement doorway.

Beau did not bother to unwrap the steaks. His guess was that Kenneth and Sarah wanted to see the steaks before he cooked them. By the time he reached the basement floor, he heard his mother coming down behind him. He stopped to give her a look of admonishment, but she ignored him and continued down the stairs as if he had said nothing to her. Kimberly’s inquisitive nature was a trait that Beau was familiar with, and he noticed that propensity intensifying during her virtual confinement to the house due to her illness. Beau quickly conceded that Kimberly was going to be a part of this no matter what he said, and then he turned his attention back to Kenneth and Sarah. With the package of steaks in hand, Beau walked over to the coffee table.

“Here are the steaks,” Beau announced as he held them up for Kenneth and Sarah to see.

Kenneth and Sarah stood and instantly snatched the steaks out of Beau’s hands. Without hesitation, they ripped the packaging off and began devouring the raw meat as Beau and Kimberly watched in astonishment. Within seconds of their first bites, their eyes began to shine from the light that was reflecting off them, and after a few seconds fangs began appearing inside their mouths. Beau was frightened by the visible change that was happening to Kenneth and Sarah. Instinctively he began moving backwards as his fear grew. The only thing that was stopping him from running was the presence of his mother in the basement, and she was not going anywhere. Kimberly was intrigued by what she was seeing. As Beau was moving back, she was moving forward.

“What’s wrong with you, man?” Beau asked with a suggestion of hysteria in his voice.

Kenneth had no ready reply for the question. He merely paused from his eating to shrug and shake of his head. After a moment of silence, Sarah looked up from her steak and began filling in the details.

“I have a friend,” Sarah commenced to explain in a somber tone. “Her name is Mary, and she did something to us. It changed us. It’s changing us somehow.”

“What are you?” Kimberly nearly whispered as she leaned in to stare at Kenneth and Sarah.

“We don’t know,” Sarah answered while shaking her head.

Kimberly took a seat on the edge of the sofa chair nearest to Kenneth.

“Are you vampires?” Kimberly asked in a whisper.

“Yes,” Sarah answered as if she was amazed to be saying it. “I think we are.”


	36. Nadja's Charge

As _Nadja_ drove through the streets of Brooklyn, she could hear everything that was transpiring between Cassidy and Tony through the cellphone connection. The sound of Cassidy’s struggles motivated her to drive faster. In contrast to normal Dacia Vampire practices, she began defying the traffic laws in her urgency. Several minutes had passed from the start of Cassidy’s struggle with Tony McGuire until _Nadja_ turned down the street where they were engaged. _Nadja_ screeched to a stop in a no parking area across the street from the building that Jeremiah was renovating, jumped out of the car and ran to the building’s front entrance.

_Nadja_ ’s first attempt to enter the front doors failed. The chain refused to give way to a quick and violent pull on the door handles. Without giving it a second thought, _Nadja_ grasped the chain and with great effort, pulled one of its links apart, and flung the doors open before Tony could pounce on Cassidy.

“Get away from her,” _Nadja_ roared with an angry scowl.

_Nadja_ charged Tony with her claws and fangs bared. They fell to the floor and rolled several times like two cats fighting to the death. Seconds into their fight, the hydraulic doors closed shut, bringing some relief to Tony’s irritated eyes. They fought violently, scratching, clawing, biting and throwing each other across the floor. Inside of a minute, they were both scarred and bleeding. Moments later, they paused to catch their breaths and take each other’s measure.

“I take it that you're a Dacia Vampire like _Razvan_ ,” Tony questioned as he huffed for breath. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all yours,” _Nadja_ sneered back.

“You know, we don't have to be enemies,” Tony conveyed with a smug smile.

“Then stop what you're doing,” _Nadja_ flatly instructed.

“I have a better idea,” Tony returned with the beginnings of grin. “Join me. We can take over this city. Hell, we can take over the country.”

“You're mad,” _Nadja_ asserted with fervor.

“And you're in my way,” Tony growled back.

As the combatants exchanged words, Cassidy searched the floor for her gun. She chose to be secretive about her movements because she did not want Tony to know she was plotting to insert herself into his fight with _Nadja_. She did not expect to kill Tony by shooting him, but she was hoping to slow him down. Finding her gun was the first step, but the dark room filled with construction materials, equipment and debris, was hampering her efforts to locate the weapon.

After the pause, the fighting continued unabated, but it shortly became evident to Cassidy that Tony’s size was giving him an advantage. To match Tony’s strength, _Nadja_ had to burn energy faster. The prolonged fight was sapping her fuel faster than his. After more than two minutes of fighting, _Nadja_ ’s deteriorating stamina was visibly more pronounced than Tony’s.

“Run!” _Nadja_ yelled with a glance at Cassidy.

Cassidy ignored _Nadja_ ’s command and began searching for her gun in haste. Abandoning _Nadja_ to fend for herself against an overmatched opponent was a thought she dreaded to consider—let alone do. Cassidy knew that with her gun in hand she could contribute something to the fight. Armed with the belief that she could help _Nadja_ , Cassidy’s pride was making flight the more frightening option to fight.

“Get out of here,” _Nadja_ screamed after tumbling across the floor then looking up at Cassidy.

“You’re no match for me,” Tony asserted confidently. “And soon my vampires will outnumber you and yours. This is your last chance. Join us.”

“I’ll see you dead first,” _Nadja_ hissed back in defiance.

Once again, _Nadja_ and Tony collided into each other like a pair of feral cats. As the fight between them continued, Cassidy frantically pushed paper and boxes aside in a desperate search for her gun. Suddenly her attention became fixed on a can of paint thinner. She quickly took the container in hand, noting it was about two-thirds full. With an idea in mind, she raced over to a paint tray, opened the can of thinner and poured it into the tray. Then she reached into her jacket pocket and retrieved a cigarette lighter. Just as she was completing the preparations of her plan, Tony lifted _Nadja_ off the floor and slammed her down, pinning her to the floor. _Nadja_ struggled to keep his fangs away from her neck. Cassidy knew there was nothing she could do physically to help _Nadja_ and watched in terror at what she feared was the final moments of _Nadja_ ’s life. Several seconds later, _Nadja_ committed herself to one massive heave and threw Tony off, sending him sliding across the floor. But the effort sapped most of _Nadja_ ’s remaining strength and Tony knew it. He growled at _Nadja_ in triumph, but in that moment, Cassidy saw her chance.

Cassidy hurried forward between _Nadja_ and Tony with the tray full of paint thinner and flung the liquid onto Tony’s face and torso. At first, Tony was surprised by the act, then confused. The liquid was caustic and stung his eyes. By the time he realized that he had been doused with roughly a half a can of a flammable liquid, Cassidy had already lit the paint thinner residue in the tray with her cigarette lighter and tossed the flaming tray at him. Tony’s upper torso went up in an instant blaze. He immediately began stumbling back toward the rear of the building, screaming as he went.

When _Nadja_ saw Tony writhing in pain from the fire, she sat back on the floor to rest and recoup her strength. She paid little attention to Tony after noting his situation. She knew that the injures the fire was inflicting on him would sap most of Tony’s energy and end his threat to her and Cassidy.

While _Nadja_ was resting, Tony blindly stumbled into a cloth painter's canvas hanging from the mezzanine balcony. The fire around Tony found fuel in the paint thinner stains in the cloth and began to slowly lick its way up the canvas. A few seconds later, Tony collapsed to the floor from exhaustion. The fire about his head and torso was nearly out. By this time, _Nadja_ was more than a minute into her rest from fighting when Cassidy’s activity caught her attention.

“What are you doing?” _Nadja_ huffed with difficulty.

“I’m looking for my gun,” Cassidy exclaimed without stopping to return _Nadja_ ’s gaze.

Cassidy was in a hurry to find her sidearm. She could see that the fire consuming Tony was quickly dying out. The fact that Tony was now lying still on the floor did nothing to make Cassidy feel safe. She knew that vampires were hard to kill, and she feared that Tony would jump up and renew his assault when the fire was fully out.

“Over there,” _Nadja_ called out after giving the room a quick visual scan.

Cassidy looked at _Nadja_ and saw her pointing to an area on the other side of the room from her and even further away from _Nadja_. When she went to the location, she found the gun lying exactly where _Nadja_ had pointed. She immediately suspected that _Nadja_ ’s vampire eyes made it possible for her to spot the gun so quickly in a room with next to no illumination, but she had no time to dwell on that. Cassidy’s first concern at that moment was keeping Tony in check. She quickly brought her gun up to the ready and started moving toward the now smoldering heap that was lying on the floor. Because she did not trust Tony to be dead, Cassidy’s movements were slow and careful.

“He’s not getting up,” _Nadja_ stated in between deep breathes.

Cassidy stopped and looked down at Tony for several seconds before lowering her gun and turning her attention to _Nadja_.

“You okay?”

“I could eat if you're offering,” _Nadja_ huffed as she positioned herself onto her knees.

“That's not going to happen,” Cassidy returned with a slight shake of her head and a smirk.

_Nadja_ and Cassidy paused and looked at each other in relief. After a couple of breathes, Cassidy holstered her gun. At that moment, Cassidy and _Nadja_ detected an uptake in the size of the secondary fire that started in the painter's drop cloth. Flooring paper, trace solvents and discarded packaging made for a trail of fuel that led the fire to a stack of packaged insulation pads. The packaging paper fueled the fire to a size and temperature that enabled it to latch on to the adjacent exposed wood framing. Cassidy intuitively knew the fire had to be put out now or it would continue to grow until it engulfed the entire building, and she began searching the room for something to douse the flames.

“What are you doing?” _Nadja_ asked with a frown.

“I’m looking for a fire extinguisher,” Cassidy returned without a pause in her search.

By this time, the wooden mezzanine floor and balcony was beginning to feed the fire, and the drop cloth was reciprocating by being more receptive to the flame. _Nadja_ and Cassidy were stunned by the sudden change in the situation. There was a noticeable heat emanating off the fire. Cassidy ran over to the drop cloth and made numerous attempts to yank it free of the balcony. _Nadja_ was still too exhausted to do anything but stand up and back away from the growing heat. After several seconds of pulling, the drop cloth fell to the floor, but the fire was firmly established in the exposed wood in the mezzanine wall opposite the railing, and it was working its way up to the level above. Cassidy raced into the storage room at the back of the building in search for a fire extinguisher and quickly discovered the fire was licking its way up the paper backing of the insulation in the wall dividing the two rooms. Seconds after noticing this, some melting insulation and the burning paper backing fell off the wall and onto the drinks table with its collection of glasses and open bottles and their remaining alcoholic contents. The tabletop erupted into fire, and the adjacent wall quickly absorbed the flames. Within a few seconds, the fire was lapping at the wooden beams in the ceilings and the wooden floor above them. Cassidy sped up her search for a fire extinguisher. Minutes later, she gave up the search. It was clear to her that the fire had grown beyond anything she alone could do to stop it.

Cassidy ran back into the front room of the building and found _Nadja_ backing still further away from the heat of the fire. The mezzanine balcony was engulfed in fire and the tops of the flames were inches away from reaching the rooms high ceiling. Cassidy hurried over to _Nadja_ ’s side.

“Come on, you’ve got to get out of here,” Cassidy warned as she moved toward the front entrance.

“We need him,” _Nadja_ returned with a point toward Tony’s body.

“He’s not dead?” Cassidy asked with surprise.

“No, he’s not,” _Nadja_ answered with a shake of her head. “Immortals are only truly dead when our bodies are burnt or decomposed beyond repair. Until that happens, a vampire can survive any injury that does not destroy our brain and/or our hearts.”

Cassidy looked at the burnt head of Tony. The idea that he was still alive inside that charred mass gave her reason to wonder how much physical trauma a vampire could endure and live. Time was not on Cassidy’s side and she quickly gave up on that thinking and hurried over to Tony. She dragged Tony’s unconscious body a few feet and then stopped. Smoke was beginning to fill the room and the exertion was causing her to breathe in too much of it. _Nadja_ went to Cassidy’s aid, but she dropped down to one knee after her first tug. Cassidy could see that _Nadja_ had no energy to do anything. The fire was now spreading across the high ceiling. Cassidy released Tony, lifted _Nadja_ up onto her feet and began walking her toward the front exit. Moments later, she and _Nadja_ stumbled out the building’s front entrance. Cassidy continued to walk _Nadja_ to the sidewalk across the street from the building. Outside there were no overt signs of the fire raging within. Cassidy set _Nadja_ down and then raced back across the street. Just as she reached the sidewalk in front of the burning building, a cab rolled to a stop just behind her. David _(Cristiãn)_ and _Petru_ jumped out of the cab. After a quick look to assess the situation, _Petru_ went to _Nadja_ 's aid and David _(Cristiãn)_ followed Cassidy into the building.

“What are you doing?” David _(Cristiãn)_ yelled through the roar of the fire.

Cassidy turned about to see who was talking. The sight of David _(Cristiãn)_ surprised her a little, but she did not have time to express it.

“I have to get him out of here,” Cassidy yelled over the uproar of the fire and with a point.

Tony McGuire was still lying motionless on the floor twenty feet from Cassidy. The room felt like the interior of an oven set for roasting and the fire was now feeding on most of the ceiling. Cassidy's movement toward Tony was checked by the sound of the ceiling collapsing in the rear storage room, and her attention was fixed on the ceiling above when David _(Cristiãn)_ called out his question. When Cassidy turned to take another step toward Tony, David _(Cristiãn)_ yelled “no” and rushed over to her. In the time it took David _(Cristiãn)_ to take three strides, a portion of the ceiling above Tony fell in and landed on top of him. Tony McGuire was covered in burning debris.

“Come on,” David _(Cristiãn)_ insisted with a tug of Cassidy's arm.

Cassidy hesitated for a second, and then she followed David’s _(Cristiãn)_ lead. Together, they hustled out of the building and into the street. Smoke and flames were now visibly spewing out of the building. A handful of spectators were standing outside the building at a distance. More spectators were coming from further down the block. Cassidy and David _(_ _Cristiãn)_ were a few seconds into examining the fire when the first sounds of sirens could be heard. David _(Cristiãn)_ quickly looked to _Petru_ and saw that he was moving _Nadja_ toward the car that she arrived in. _Petru_ returned his look with a nod that said he and _Nadja_ were leaving. David _(Cristiãn)_ returned his nod and quickly turned his attention to Cassidy.

“Where's your car?”

“We can't leave,” Cassidy stated with a mix of alarm and a question in her tone.

“Yes, we can,” David _(Cristiãn)_ insisted. “We have to leave now.”

Cassidy gave the idea of leaving the scene a moment of thought before agreeing to leave. Protecting the secret of the existence of vampires swayed her to that decision. She and David _(Cristiãn)_ began to inconspicuously back away from the scene. After several steps they turned and began a hurried walk down the block and around the corner to Cassidy's car. By the time they got themselves seated inside the vehicle, the first police patrol car rolled to a stop in front of the blazing inferno consuming the building. Seconds later, Cassidy steered her car out of its parking space and drove it away from the area at a leisurely pace. At the corner of the block, a fire truck raced by them.


	37. Donny

It was late Monday afternoon when Russell Cross began to move for the first time as a vampire. It took more than five minutes for him to reach full consciousness from his first stirrings. Seconds after his return to self-awareness Russell noticed that he was not alone in his bed. When he looked over, he saw his sister, Paula, lying motionless beside him. Her presence there was both surprising and confusing, but he dismissed the conundrum a second later. His brain was suddenly overwhelmed with a fierce hunger that pushed out all rational thought. When he tried to sit up, he discovered the effort was beyond the limits of his strength. He suddenly realized that he barely had the energy to move, and then he recalled what his sister had done.

Stimulated by the memory of his sister’s attack, Russell rolled out of bed and onto the floor. His physique was now a gaunt version of the body he had the day before. It took him some time to bring himself to a standing position, then he stumbled out of his bedroom. Going from wall-to-wall to avoid falling, Russell made his way into the kitchen sink. He quickly guzzled down several glasses of water, and then went to the refrigerator. After taking a short rest against the door, Russell opened the door and began feeding on leftovers right out of the refrigerator.

Much of what Russell put into his mouth he spat out a second later. He quickly concluded that there was little inside his refrigerator that was a match for his craving and nothing in the quantity he wanted. He caved meat, but all the cooked, season meat he found inside the refrigerator was barely acceptable to his pallet. He was several minutes into scavenging for food when he gave up on the refrigerator and decided to leave the apartment.

Russell made his way back to his bedroom with slightly less effort than it took for him to leave it. After sitting down on the side of the bed, he looked at his sister and noticed that she was lying just as still and motionless as she was before. He decided to examine her more closely and shortly noticed that she did not appear to be breathing. He then tried to awaken her. When shaking her and calling her name did nothing, he felt for at her throat. When he failed to find a pulse, he panicked. He thought that maybe he did something to cause her death. With his head in his hands, he was contemplating what to do when Paula suddenly sat up in bed.

“Oh my God, you’re alive,” Russell exclaimed with a look of astonishment.

“Yes, yes,” Paula confirmed as she hurried out of the bed and around it until she was standing in front of her brother. Without hesitating, Paula stooped down and took Russell’s face into her hands. “How are you?” She asked in a voice full of worry.

“You attacked me,” Russell complained while pushing away from Paula. “You bit me.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Paula apologized while respecting the distance that Russell put between them. “I did it because I couldn’t leave you behind.”

“What does that mean?” Russell asked with insistence. “You could have killed me.”

“I did. I did kill you,” Paula returned in a somber voice. “You were dead, and then I brought you back to life.”

Russell did not know how to respond to Paula’s declaration. For several seconds, he looked at her as though she were an alien.

“What’s wrong with you?” Russell asked. “Why are you acting this way? Why couldn’t I wake you up a few minutes ago?”

Paula was frightened by his questions. She was not sure that he would believe the truth, but she knew dancing around it was just adding to his confusion.

“I was infected with a—disease—or virus—or something, and it changed me,” Paula confessed mournfully. “And I infected—you.”

“You infected me?” Russell challenged while feeling for the wound in his neck. “You infected me with what?”

“But it’s a good infection,” Paula quickly assured with desperation. “You’re going to live longer—much longer, and you’ll stay young like me. Can’t you see how much younger I’m looking?” She added while touching her face.

Russell did see a decidedly youthful change in his sister’s face, and she had clearly lost some weight. The difference in her figure was not that great from how she looked when he last saw her a week ago. Even at 46 years of age, Paula had an attractive figure. It was the change in Paula’s face that he could not explain to himself. She looked to be in her mid-twenties.

Russell knew his sister well, and he had always trusted her to do well by him. But her assault on him last night caused him to question her intentions. That is why he chose to listen to his sister’s story and explanation. For nearly half an hour, he listened as Paula told him all that had transpired in her life over the past week. She told him that she and he were vampires now and that they were immortal. When Paula ended her story and went silent, Russell believed that they had been infected in some manner, but he was dubious about the vampire claim. It was not wholly because of her story that he was convinced that a change had occurred in him. He could feel a difference that was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

It was only through the process of mentally cataloguing his condition that Russell noticed the changes in his mental and sensory acuteness. Hunger had been the dominant sense he was experiencing until hearing Paula’s narrative, and it was the ache of starving that was obscuring his ability to recognize the changes. Now that he was convinced that his person had undergone some form of physiological alteration, Russell’s thinking went back to satisfying his body’s most pressing need, food.

“So, you’re saying this change is why I’m so hungry?” Russell mildly challenged.

“Yes,” Paula confirmed with enthusiasm.

“Fine,” Russell conceded without debate. “But I’ve got to get something to eat,” he declared while reaching under the bed for his shoes.

No, Russell,” Paula countered. “Stay here. I know you’re hungry, but you have to stay here.”

“I need to eat something,” Russell disputed with insistence. “I’m starving.”

“You’re not starving,” Paula insisted with a panicked shake of her head. “I’ll get you something to eat, but not now. Okay?”

“Why?” Russell questioned with a stunned expression.

“The sun is still up, and your body doesn’t have the stamina to endure it,” Paula warned with a stark stare. “I’ll get you something to eat when the sun goes down.”

Paula explained that she could go out for a short period of time, but she felt the exertion in the sunlight was unnecessary when sunset was just three hours away, so Russell grudgingly agreed to wait. When Paula did leave the apartment armed with Russell’s money to purchase meat, the sun was just below the horizon and Russell was in distress with hunger pangs. The faint scent of neighbors had him anxious for blood. This condition only worsened after Paula left the apartment, and it was half an hour after she had left when Donny knocked on his apartment door.

Donny Ellis worked alongside Russell as a medical lab technician for the past seven years. They became close friends soon after their first meeting. Donny’s presence at Russell’s door was motivated by concern for his friend. He made several calls to Russell’s apartment and cellphone over the past ten hours to inquire why he did not come to work. He was outside Russell’s apartment door now to see if he was home and okay, and it took him nearly a minute of knocking to get his answer.

“Man, you look terrible,” Donny exclaimed when Russell opened the door. “What’s wrong?”

Donny was speaking about Russell’s thin and tired appearance. His impression at first sight was that Russell was ill. His medical training supported his suspicion. When he made a move to enter the apartment, Russell quickly pulled the door tight to his side, blocking Donny’s entry.

“I’m okay,” Russell answered while holding the door flush against his side. “I’m just a little under the weather.”

Donny was surprised by Russell’s reluctance to let him inside the apartment. Normally Russell would just open the door and walk away with the expectation that Donny would follow him inside.

“You’re more than under the weather, man,” Donny disputed while examining Russell with a steady gaze. “I think you should go to an emergency room.”

“No, no,” Russell countered while blocking the doorway. “I’ll be okay. I just need to rest.”

“You sure?” Donny questioned with a dubious expression while attempting to look past Russell and into his apartment. “Because it really looks like someone should be looking after you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Russell answered with a shrug and a nod of his head. “Paula is looking after me. So, I’m okay.”

“Paula is here?” Donny questioned with a little surprise. “Well, can I come in?”

Donny’s close association with Russell produced numerous occasions when he and Paula had socialized in the past. He regarded Paula’s company an entertaining experience, and the idea that she was inside Russell’s apartment made his blocking stance at the door more suspicious.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Russell returned. “This thing might be contagious.”

“That’s all the more reason why you should let me in,” Donny insisted as he pushed by Russell and entered the apartment.

Russell understood Donny’s reasoning for coming inside. His medical training would make a better option than Paula if he were truly ill. His contagious excuse was a reflex thought to justify keeping Donny out. As Donny brushed by him, Russell both regretted and reveled in Donny’s insistence on coming inside. His regret was rooted in his worry that Donny would learn the truth about his condition, and his revelry was rooted in the smell of Donny’s blood that flooded into his olfactory as he passed.

“Paula, where are you?” Donny called as he walked through the apartment looking for her.

Russell shut the door slowly, followed Donny into the living room and waited there for Donny to come out of the kitchen at the other end of a connecting hall.

“Where is she?” Donny asked as he walked back into the living room.

“What?” Russell returned with a dazed look.

Russell’s thinking was on hold as his mind was savored the scent of Donny’s blood that was quickly filling the apartment. He barely heard Donny speaking. The salivating going on inside his mouth had his senses overwhelmed with stimuli.

“Paula, where is she?” Donny asked again.

“Oh, she—ah, she went to the store,” Russell fumbled out while staring at Donny with fascination.

Donny was startled by the manner of Russell’s dazed and confused response. He hesitated for a moment to analyze his appearance, and then he started towards him.

“You don’t look well,” Donny announced as he started toward Russell. “Let me check your temperature.”

Donny was an instant away from placing the back of his hand against his friend’s forehead when Russell snatched up his arm and spun him around. There was no thinking behind Russell’s actions. An overwhelming hunger was driving him to feed, and the blood in Donny’s body is what he craved at that moment. The speed of Russell’s assault surprised Donny to the extent that he only became aware that his life was in danger after he felt the bite go into his neck. Because of the angle of the attack, Donny did not see the fangs that suddenly grew into Russell’s mouth, and he did not see the light reflecting off his eyes.

“What are you doing?” Donny screamed as he struggled against Russell’s grip.

Shortly after Donny’s cry, Russell took him down to the floor. His fangs were still dug into Donny’s neck and blood gushed from the wound. Donny struggled feverishly to free himself, but Russell kept him clenched within his arms with an unyielding grip. In little more than a minute, Donny slipped into unconsciousness. Now unfettered by Donny’s effort to free himself, Russell released his hold around his torso and took his head into his hands. For more than a minute, Russell fed on Donny without thought for anything else. His attention was so focused on the meal he was consuming that he failed to hear Paula enter the apartment.

“What are you doing?” Paula screamed. “Stop! Stop!” she yelled while dropping her groceries and racing over to Russell. 

Paula grabbed Russell by the arm and shoulder and began pulling to separate him from Donny’s neck. Several seconds later, Russell instinctively responded to his sister’s efforts and dropped Donny’s head and shoulders to the floor. Almost immediately after releasing Donny, Russell stood up and growled with satisfaction. The excess energy and the accompanying exhilaration came on in a rush that filled his person with euphoria. A wide smile was on his face as he extended his arms out and rejoiced in the tremendous sensation he was feeling. After several seconds of mindless exaltation, Russell’s wits returned to him and he became aware that his sister was staring at him with a look of shock.

It took Russell another few seconds to piece together in his mind what he had done. He looked down at Donny and went into a panic. The sight of Donny lying motionless on the floor horrified him. He could not believe what he had done and that he had done it so unwittingly. The loss of his friend suddenly filled him with remorse.

“Is he dead?” Russell whined tearfully.

“No not yet,” Paula returned as she stared down at Donny. “I can still hear his heart beating.”

Russell looked down and listened. After a few seconds, he heard a slow, faint, rhythmic beat reverberating from Donny’s chest. He suddenly realized that Paula was right, and then he looked to his sister with a questioning expression.

“We have to get him to a hospital,” Russell stated for Paula’s approval.

“No,” Paula countered with a shake of her head.

“He’ll die if we don’t,” Russell responded with insistence and shock.

“We can’t give ourselves away,” Paula stridently countered.

Russell paused to consider Paula’s words.

“We can’t just let him die,” Russell dejectedly returned.

Paula gave her brother a mournful look in response to his declaration. She knew that Russell was desperate to save his friend but letting Donny die was exactly what she was thinking. She saw his death as a solution to the problem of the police learning about the attack and possible murder of Donny. Paula’s biggest fear at that moment was that her little brother might be in danger. The solution was obvious to her mind, and they only had to wait for him to die to initiate it, and that wait was not long. Donny’s heart came to a stop in just under a minute.

“We have to turn him,” Paula instructed with urgency.

Paula went down to her knees and took Donny’s head into her hands. Breathing deeply, she induced her fangs to grow.

“What are you doing?” Russell asked.

“I have to turn him, Russell, and I have to do it now,” Paula answered with speed and insistence.

Paula arched Donny’s head back and opened his mouth. She then bit into the fleshy part of her palm and began dripping the blood from the wound into Donny’s mouth. Russell watched with concern and fascination.

“This is what you did to me?” Russell questioned with astonishment.

“Yes,” Paula returned as she continued to drip her blood into Donny’s mouth.

“Is it going to work,” Russell asked with worry.

“I think so,” Paula responded just as she finished feeding her blood to Donny.

Paula laid Donny’s head gently onto the floor and stood. Russell watched and waited for his sister’s next move or words, but Paula ignored him. Instead, she shut her eyes and held them shut over the next several seconds while concentrating on her breathing. Russell could see that Paula was willing herself into a calm and relaxed state, but he did not know. When Paula completed the act of calming herself, she reached into her mouth with her thumb and index finger and began breaking off her fangs.

“They become brittle when you calm down from your… arousal,” Paula answered Russell’s questioning look. “They’ll break off on their own in time.”

Russell reached up and tested his sister’s claim by taking one of his fangs between his fingers. To his surprise, the end of the tooth broke off with ease and without pain. He then quickly broke away the remaining three.

“What are you thinking?” Russell asked in response to Paula’s bewildered expression.

Paula hesitated to answer. Her mind was still in the middle of considering their options and what they should do. She knew that when Donny awakened as a vampire, he would be free to do as he wanted. She trusted Russell to stay discrete, but she had no such assurance that Donny would do the same.

It was Paula’s fear that if Donny exposed what he was to the world, then Russell, herself and all the other vampires would soon be exposed too. She knew that Tony would make that same calculation, and she worried that he would kill Donny, herself and Russell to protect the secret of their existence. Paula greatly feared for her own life, but she feared for her brother’s even more.

“I need to call someone,” Paula announced as she pulled the slip of paper with Lola’s phone number on it from her jacket pocket.

Paula hesitated to dial the phone number, but she soon concluded that Lola was the person she had to call first. It did not matter to Paula that she had only just met Lola two days earlier. She felt safer in Lola’s company than she did with anyone else associated with Tony. She even had her trepidation’s about Charlie. His history of obeisance to Tony caused her to wonder what Charlie would do if it ever came down to a choice between protecting her or obeying Tony.

Lola gave Paula a feeling of safety. She did not detect anything hostile about her, and she seemed to possess some rank within Tony’s collection of associates. She noticed that everyone outside of Tony regarded her as a person with authority. She understood that Lola’s rank within the gang was a result of Tony’s devotion to her. It was because of those feelings that Paula hoped that Lola might give her some protection.

“Hi,” Paula meekly greeted.

“Where the hell are you?” Lola responded in a demanding tone.

“I went to see my brother,” Paula mildly explained.

“Your brother?” Lola loudly returned. “And you couldn’t have called? Wait, wait, wait, are you there now?”

“Yes,” Paula replied with a slight nod. “I needed to stay.”

“So, you haven’t been back to Jerry’s?” Lola questioned eagerly.

“No, I haven’t been back yet,” Paula hesitantly responded.

“Good,” Lola quickly acknowledged. “Don’t go there. Stay where you are. Have you spoken with Charlie since you left?” She finished with a quick change of subjects.

“No,” Paula answered with surprise. “He isn’t there with you?”

“No, I think he’s still with Tony,” Lola sharply advised. “And I don’t know where he is either. He should have called me by now.” 

Paula was suddenly mystified by the conversation she was having with Lola. Instead of telling her about what had happened with her, Paula found herself in the middle of a conversation that she did not understand. The only takeaway she had so far was that Lola was concerned about something on her end.

“I don’t understand,” Paula politely challenged. “Why don’t you just call him?”

“I have,” Lola roared back at Paula. “He’s not answering his cellphone. I don’t know what the hell is going on right now.”

“Maybe you should call Jerry,” Paula suggested as nicely as she could.

“That’s not possible,” Lola grumbled through the cellphone.

“Why? What’s wrong?” Paula asked with a confused frown.

“I’m not talking about it over the phone,” Lola returned in a disgruntled tone. “Just stay away from Jerry’s and answer your phone when I call later.”

Paula immediately concluded that Lola was not at Jerry’s home either.

“So, you’re not at Jerry’s either?” Paula guessed.

“No, I’m not,” Lola returned with an annoyed grumble. “And neither are those two idiots who were in the house with us.”

“Why?” Paula asked, now very intrigued. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t talk about that right now,” Lola answered sullenly. “I just need you to stay in touch.”

“Wait, wait,” Paula quickly spoke up before Lola could disconnect the call. “I have a situation.”

“What do you mean, situation?” Lola asked.

Paula paused to reconsider what she was about to say. She was not sure if she wanted to tell Lola about her brother being a vampire. She was concerned that once that was known there was no going back, but she shortly decided that there was no hiding her brother. Paula knew that Charlie would encounter Russell sooner or later.

“Tony has—two new grandchildren,” Paula delicately confessed.

“You didn’t?” Lola immediately returned with an intonation of shock.

“It’s my brother,” Paula somberly returned. “And someone else,” she meekly ended.

“Oh hell,” Lola exclaimed. “Tony is going to explode.”

“He’s my baby brother,” Paula pleaded into her cellphone. “I couldn’t just leave—what if something happened to him? What if he got hit by a car or shot on the street? He’s my brother,” she lamented with finality.

Lola paused to consider what she should say next. There was a limit to what she was prepared to say over the phone, but she did want to know if the situation was going to cause them any trouble beyond Tony. 

“So, is your brother and this other person going to be a problem?” Paula asked after a pause and sigh.

“No—I mean, I don’t think so,” Paula bumbled out. “Not my brother,” she quickly corrected. “But I don’t know about—the other person—maybe, maybe not. He’s still—asleep,” she haltingly finished.

“Fine, fine,” Lola returned through the cellphone with frustration. “How long?”

“I think another twelve hours—more or less,” Paula replied with a regretful tone.

“Okay. Fine, you stay on top of that, and I’ll call you in a few hours,” Lola testily responded. “And when I call, pick up.”

“Okay,” Paula agreed.


	38. One Thing to Another

The sun was situated just above the horizon when Cassidy stopped her car in front of David’s condominium complex. The time was 6:47pm and the evening rush was nearly at an end. David and Cassidy remained mostly quiet during the drive from Tony’s stash house in Queens to Midtown Manhattan. After inquiring about Cassidy’s well-being, David did not know what to talk about, and Cassidy was too preoccupied with thoughts about what just happened. She was also considering the possibilities of what could happen.

“I’ll tell _Stefan_ to hurry over to this Jeremiah’s house and clean it up,” David advised shortly after the car came to a stop.

David did not know that Stefan, Helga, Sorin and Adrianna were already at Jeremiah’s home. _Nadja_ did not have time to tell him that, and he and _Petru_ had not spoken to any of the other Dacia Vampires. It was David’s supposition that some of their members were on their way to Jeremiah’s house now, and he concluded that the fire at the commercial building made the cleanup they needed to do urgent; the police would surely go to Jeremiah’s home when they discovered he was the owner of the building that Cassidy had set ablaze.

“No, don’t do that,” Cassidy softly countered with a shake of her head. “They need to stay away from that house now.”

Cassidy’s pensive expression was a clear indicator to David that she was in deep contemplation about the situation. Rather than challenge her thinking, he chose to wait for Cassidy to speak her mind.

“There are more of them out there,” Cassidy announced after a moment of thought. “Jeremiah’s neighbor spoke of seeing two separate women at his place and possibly more.”

“Are you sure they’re immortals?” David queried.

“No, I can’t be sure of that,” Cassidy answered with little thought to the question. “But what I am sure about is that Jeremiah Kingston was killed early this morning.”

“So, you’re saying the killer wasn’t McGuire or whoever else was in that building we came from,” David surmised out loud.

“The neighbor said that two women, one man and possibly more left Jeremiah Kingston’s house early this morning,” Cassidy advised. “And they left in Jeremiah Kingston’s car. I didn’t see Jeremiah’s car in the parking lot of that building we just left.”

David knew from his experience as a vampire that Jeremiah Kingston’s killer had to be a vampire too. He knew that no one or two or seven mortals could have done to a vampire what Cassidy described.

“Can you use your resources to find the car,” David asked after a quick thought.

“No,” Cassidy sharply rejected. “I would have to put out an APB, and I need an excuse to do that.”

“Okay, tonight we keep an eye on Kingston’s home and the building we just left and see who comes knocking,” David suggested.

“I don’t think that’s going to work either,” Cassidy pondered.

“Why?” David politely queried.

“Whoever killed Jeremiah Kingston ran, and I don’t think they were running from the police,” Cassidy assessed.

“They’re running from McGuire,” David concluded based on Cassidy’s assessment.

“That would be my bet,” Cassidy agreed.

“So, what do we do?” David asked.

“We wait,” Cassidy responded with a sigh. “When Queens North finds out who owns that building that—I—just torched, they’re going to be knocking on Jeremiah Kingston’s door. And when they find his body, they’ll send out an APB for his car. And when they find it…” she trailed off with a sigh.

“You think it’s game over?” David questioned with a knowing look.

“There’s has to be fingerprints all over that house,” Cassidy concluded.

“All the more reason why we need to get in there,” David insisted.

“There’s no time,” Cassidy sharply countered.

“How much time is there?” David queried in a hurry.

“Two, three hours. Leave it alone,” Cassidy advised with a shake of her head. “If one of you gets caught in there, that’s just going to make it worst,” she said with insistence. “Give me your cellphone,” Cassidy instructed in a tone that suggested she was changing the subject.

David was confused by the request and hesitated.

“I lost mine in the fire,” Cassidy respond to David’s look of curiosity.

“Oh,” David acknowledged as he pulled out his cellphone, unlocked it using the facial recognition system and then extended it to Cassidy.

When Cassidy had David’s cellphone in hand, she dialed out to the NYPD’s main number. That was the only number to the NYPD that she had committed to memory. Once the call connected, Cassidy used her name and badge number to negotiate her way through two switchboard operators before being connected to her squad room.

“Manhattan South Homicide,” Dt. Vera Washington greeted.

“This is Cassidy,” Cassidy sighed annoyingly into the cellphone. “Connect me to Hale,” she instructed gruffly.

“Tremaine?” Vera returned with surprise. “Why are you calling in through the switchboard?”

“I lost my cellphone,” Cassidy testily replied. “Just put me through to Hale.”

“Hale is busy explaining to the lieutenant how Kathryn Dryden eluded our surveillance,” Vera returned in a rude voice. “So, you can stay home and deal with your personal issues,” she finished with finality.

An instant later, the call disconnected. Cassidy pulled the cellphone back from her head and looked at it to verify that Vera had hung up on her.

“Bitch,” Cassidy cursed at the cellphone.

“Is there a problem?” David asked in response to Cassidy’s angry epithet towards his cellphone.

“No, no,” Cassidy answered with a distracted delivery. “There’s something else I have to deal with,” she continued while quickly bringing David’s cellphone up to make a second call.

Cassidy’s thoughts had suddenly shifted to her other responsibilities and the time of day. She was considering the possibility that her return home would be late at night if things went as she hoped. Cassidy knew that her children would be taken care of by her neighbor, Valerie Bower, but she also suspected that her return home could occur at a time that was too late to be knocking on Valerie’s door. With this thinking in mind, she used David’s cellphone to dial her mother. After a few seconds of ringing, the call picked up.

“Hi, mom, I’m going to be working later than I expected,” Cassidy quickly spoke into the cellphone. “I might not be able to get home until late tonight.”

“Cassidy?” Margaret returned with a touch of astonishment in her tone. “Where are you calling from?”

“I lost my phone,” Cassidy returned quickly. “I’m calling from a friend’s phone.”

“You lost your cellphone,” Margaret quickly countered before Cassidy could say more. “That doesn’t sound like you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, mom, I’m fine,” Cassidy impatiently answered. “Can you keep Cynthia and John tonight?” 

“Yes of course,” Margaret returned as if her answer was obvious. 

“Thanks, mom,” Cassidy returned with an abundance of appreciation. “If I’m back before eight, I’ll swing by and get them.”

“Okay, honey,” Margaret responded with air of indifference. “You be careful.”

Cassidy quickly said goodbye to Margaret, disconnected the call and extended the cellphone back to David.

“I have to go,” Cassidy promptly announced with impatience.

“So, I’ll see later?” David queried with his hand on the door handle.

“I don’t know. Maybe—I don’t know. I have something else to deal with,” Cassidy fumbled out in a hurry.

“Okay,” David accepted as he opened the front passenger door.

David could see that Cassidy was heavily distracted by something and that she was not going to share what that was. Seeing that there was nothing more to discuss, he got out of the car, closed the door and started to look through the window for any parting words or waves, but the car was in motion by then.

Cassidy’s abrupt departure had nothing to do with David. Her thoughts were focused on Kathryn Dryden. In short order, Cassidy did the math on Kathryn’s sudden disappearance. She reasoned that Kathryn had only one card to play if she was planning to remain inside her multimillion-dollar home, the loose end had to be tied off.

Initially, Cassidy was unsure about what she should do about Kathryn Dryden. She knew where Kathryn was likely to go, but she did not know how to explain her possession of that knowledge to her superiors. It was that dilemma that had distracted her. She finally decided that debating with herself was a waste of time, so she went after Karl Volker on her own. Telling her team where Karl Volker was located became moot when she gave David’s cellphone back and drove off.

Arresting Karl Volker was the thing Cassidy had to do before Kathryn Dryden got to him. In Cassidy’s mind, it was a race. She was counting on Kathryn to avoid any form of transportation that would leave a paper trail or a witness who could identify her. Cassidy knew that if Kathryn was cognizant of those concerns then mass transit was the means of travel she would use. She calculated that there just might be enough time for her to get to the Hoboken Rodeway Inn before Kathryn.

Cassidy steered her car through the streets of New York City at a hurried pace Traffic, traffic signals and speed limits were the only restraints to the pace of her driving. After several minutes of zigzagging, hard stops and quick accelerations, Cassidy raced through the Lincoln Tunnel. When she came out on the other side, the sun was well below the western horizon and only a faint glow of red light remained along the horizon.

Cassidy continued her frantic pace through the streets of Union City, New Jersey, and down toward Hoboken. She was halfway hoping that a patrol car would stop her so that she could recruit its occupant into being her backup, but she also worried the officers would delay her with questions and calls to their superiors and to hers. Cassidy consciously avoided dwelling on the matter during the three-mile drive from the tunnel exit to the Rodeway Inn. Her transit time was quick because of the sparse post-afternoon rush hour traffic, and because not see a single patrol car crossed her path along the way.

When Cassidy turned her car into the driveway leading to the front of the inn, she slowed to look over the half dozen individuals moving about in the area. She was just starting to turn into a parking space for the inn when a man came out of the front entrance followed closely by a woman wearing a tan baseball cap and sunglasses. The woman was too concealed by her headwear and position behind the man to be identified with just a glance, but the man had the height and features to make him a possible for Karl Volker. With these general features alone gave Cassidy cause to stop the car to examine them. Seconds into her observation, Cassidy shoved the gear shift into park, jumped out of her vehicle and drew her gun on the couple.

“Hold it right there, Volker,” Cassidy yelled while aiming her handgun directly at him.

Despite her attire, Cassidy made the woman as a match for Kathryn Dryden, and concluded that the man had to be Karl Volker. Any residual skepticism she might have had went away when Volker came to a sudden stop and grasped the handle of the handgun he had shoved into the back of his pants beneath his jacket.

“Don’t do it, Karl,” Cassidy commanded while holding a bead on the center of Karl’s torso. “NYPD, don’t do it.”

Karl was reluctant to pull the gun out with Cassidy so close and with her gun aimed at his chest. He examined Cassidy with an expression of alarm and distress. Kathryn’s hands were out by her sides and slightly raised. She also had a shocked expression as she slowly moved away from Karl and the line of fire. After a long pause, Karl looked to Kathryn for instructions.

“It’s over, Volker,” Cassidy yelled out. “Show me your hands—slowly.”

Karl briefly looked at Cassidy in response to her command, and then turned his gaze back to Kathryn. His expression was a mix of fright and confusion. He did not know what he should do, and he did not know what Kathryn wanted him to do. Her silence and gradual distancing away had him perplexed.

Kathryn Dryden was confused, but she was calculating quickly. She knew that there were video cameras inside and out of the inn. She saw them when she first arrived, and she was fully aware of the camera high on the wall capturing everything in the parking area. She also noticed the growing crowd of bystanders focusing their cellphone cameras on them. She quickly decided that she needed to stay quiet and uninvolved in the unfolding drama.

Karl briefly looked to Cassidy in response to her command, and then he turned his gaze back toward Kathryn. His facial expression was a mix of confused and frightened. He did not know what he should do, and he did not know what she wanted him to do. Kathryn’s silence and slow move away had him perplexed.

“Don’t look to her, Karl,” Cassidy loudly warned. “She wants you dead. You’re just a loose end to her.”

Karl gave Cassidy a quick look, and then he turned his gaze back to Kathryn with a wild expression of surprise and disbelief.

“Do you really think she was about to give up her multi-million-dollar Lenox Hill home for you,” Cassidy yelled at Karl.

Cassidy paused to give Karl time to consider what she just said.

“She’s not denying it,” Cassidy stridently continued. “She can’t. Not in front of these witnesses.”

Karl quickly looked toward Kathryn and waited for her to give a response. Shortly he noticed a slight shake of her head in panic. He then turned his eyes back to Cassidy with a hint of resolve in his face.

“Don’t do it, Karl,” Cassidy roared at Volker. “Think it through. That’s exactly what she wants. You’re the proof that she hired you to kill her husband. With you dead she’s going to make up some lie about a jealous ex-boyfriend, and then she’s going to sell it to the court,” she emphatically explained.

Once again Karl turned his attention back to Kathryn with an amazed expression, and once again Kathryn responded with silence and a barely perceptible shake of her head. As Karl held his attention on Kathryn, she continued to shake her head while inching further away.

“Think it through, Karl,” Cassidy yelled while holding her bead on him. “You’re blown. We’ve got you at the scene of the crime. You shoot me, you’re a cop killer. Your chances of living long enough to go to prison goes down considerably. Your way out of this with the least amount of jail time is by surrendering and turning state’s evidence for a reduced sentence. Think it through, Karl. Think it through.”

Halfway through Cassidy’s spiel, Karl turned his attention back to her and relaxed. Cassidy took a moment to notice that she was starting to win him over.

“Put the gun on the ground, Karl,” Cassidy commanded forcefully.

Karl took a moment to consider Cassidy’s order, and then he began to slowly pull his arm out from beneath his jacket.

“Slowly,” Cassidy loudly ordered as a warning.

Karl froze for a moment to heed Cassidy’s words, then he slowly slipped his hand and the gun out from beneath his jacket. When the gun was out in front of him, Karl stooped down and set the weapon on the ground. Then he stood straight up and raised his empty hands up over his head. As he was doing that, Kathryn went into her purse at a frenzied pace, pulled out her revolver and pointed it at Karl.

“Don’t do it, Kathryn,” Cassidy yelled as she turned her weapon on her.

“No,” Kathryn called out tearfully. “He killed my husband.”

“If you shoot him, I shoot you,” Cassidy warned. “Put the gun down.”

Karl was startled to see Kathryn pointing a gun at him. He was even more surprised to hear her claim that he murdered James Dryden. All his doubts and questions about what was happening went away the moment she said those words. He knew that Cassidy wanted him to give evidence against Kathryn, and for the first time he was convinced that Kathryn wanted him dead. Now worried that Kathryn might pull the trigger, Karl began to inch away from her.

“He killed my husband,” Kathryn loudly whined as she inched toward Karl.

“Mrs. Dryden, I will shoot you if you pull that trigger,” Cassidy shouted at her.

As Cassidy spoke, the first sounds of police sirens could be heard approaching from a distance. Kathryn became visibly more panicked by the sounds of approaching police cars, her eyes kept fidgeting back and forth between Cassidy and Karl.

“Put the gun down, Mrs. Dryden,” Cassidy gruffly ordered.

“He killed my husband,” Kathryn whined in desperation. “He needs to die for what he did,” she added as tearfully as she could.

“I’m ordering you, Mrs. Dryden, put the gun down,” Cassidy commanded as she inched forward.

It was seconds after Cassidy shouted that last command when the first patrol car screeched to a stop just inside the driveway in front of the inn. The police officer inside the car jumped out with his gun at the ready, took a defensive position behind his car and directed his weapon at Cassidy, his closes target.

“Police,” the first officer loudly yelled. “Put down the guns.”

Cassidy was already complying with order while yelling back at the officer.

“I’m a cop—NYPD. These people are under my arrest.”

While she was speaking a second and third patrol car screeched to stops just inside the driveway.

“Put the gun down,” the first patrol officer ordered for a second time.

Cassidy had already placed her gun on the ground. The second order was for Kathryn who was hesitant to do as she was ordered. Reluctantly, she lowered the gun then set it on the ground.

“I’m an NYPD police officer,” Cassidy yelled out again. “I’m arresting this man and this woman.”

Just as Cassidy finished speaking, three more patrol cars screeched to a stop and all the uniformed officers within them jumped out with their guns drawn. They immediately followed the lead of the patrol officers already there and moved in to complete the arrest of all involved.


	39. Questions, Accusations and Lies

“Explain to me, Detective, how you ended up making an arrest—in Jersey City—alone—on a case that your whole team was working—without first notifying your squad leader about what you were doing,” Lt. Laughton instructed with a mix of sarcasm and anger in his voice. “Can you explain that to me?”

It was close to midnight, Monday night. Cassidy was sitting in a conference room in the main Jersey City Police Station with Lt. Donald Laughton and Dt. Jason Hale sitting across from her. They had been notified by the Jersey City Police of the situation. The two of them arrived at the Jersey City Police Headquarters building minutes earlier with plenty of questions for Cassidy and no explanation for the Jersey City authorities.

“It was a fluke, Lieutenant,” Cassidy began nervously. “When I heard that Kathryn Dryden had taken off, I knew she was on her way to Volker, and I had a—hunch—a suspicion about this name I came across, Steve Babcock.”

“Steve Babcock?” Lt. Laughton interjected before Cassidy could continue speaking.

“Yes,” Cassidy anxiously confirmed. “You see, we were trying to find Volker, and I started making inquiries about new male occupants in the lower end hotels in the vicinity, and the name Steve Babcock at the Hoboken Rodeway stuck with me.”

“What made you think that Volker wasn’t traveling under his own name?” Lt. Laughton challenged gruffly.

“I was just checking all possibilities,” Cassidy answered defensively.

“And you didn’t think to tell the team?” Dt. Hale quickly challenged.

“It was a long shot,” Cassidy returned with a shrug. “Besides, I lost my cellphone.”

“Then how did you know Kathryn Dryden had bolted?” Dt. Hale questioned with a suspicious frown.

“I called. I used a friend’s phone, and I spoke with Vera. She told me that Kathryn Dryden had slipped the surveillance,” Cassidy answered with a look of wide-eyed innocence.

“And you couldn’t have told Vera about this hunch of yours?” Dt. Hale challenged.

“It didn’t occur to me at the time,” Cassidy answered with a nervous shrug.

“And you came all the way to Jersey City on a long shot,” Lt. Laughton asked with a dubious inflection.

“It was all that we had left,” Cassidy returned with a toss of her hands.

Lt. Laughton and Dt. Hale sat back in their chairs and examined Cassidy with bewilderment and annoyance. In their minds, Cassidy’s accomplishments since her arrival to Manhattan South Homicide was astonishing to the point of being suspicious. They both had come around to Vera’s way of thinking that Cassidy was a show-boater, but not even that could explain how she managed her recent string of amazing arrests. It bothered them both that Cassidy appeared to be intentionally acting on her own whenever possible, but neither of them could find fault in anything she said or did. After a few seconds they resigned themselves to the position that things were what they were, and they sent Cassidy home with instructions to come in to work at noon the next day.

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

It was early Tuesday morning when Lola heard the first bit of news regarding Tony McGuire. The sun had yet to appear above the eastern horizon, but the sky glowed pink with its advancing presence. Lola had spent the night with her cellphone within easy reach, expecting a call from Tony. As the night wore on without a call, it became increasingly plausible in her mind that some mishap had occurred with Tony. His silence made no sense to her. At sunrise, Lola turned on the television in Mary Thistle’s living room. She wanted to scan through the news before settling down to sleep through the day. She had not been watching long when the story of a fire inside Jeremiah’s home was being reported on. Lola instantly began to entertain the idea that someone set that fire deliberately.

“Did Tony do that?” Mary asked with astonishment.

Neither Lola nor Keegan paid any attention to Mary’s question. The news story was still unfolding with new information that they wanted to hear. Seconds after Mary asked her question, the second part of the news story began. The story reported on the fire at the commercial building owned by Jeremiah and the four bodies found inside.

“That’s the stash house,” Keegan declared with a shocked expression.

“You sure?” Lola challenged.

“That’s the stash house,” Keegan insisted with a point toward the television.

“What’s happening?” Patricia asked with alarm and agitation in her voice.

Without a thought to Patricia’s question, Lola grabbed the remote from the coffee table and muted the sound on the television when a commercial replaced the news program. She stood quietly considering the situation while everyone watched her. Several seconds later, she came to an assessment.

“I think someone out there is killing us,” Lola half-heartedly stated. “Someone who knows what we are and don’t want anyone else to know.”

“The other vampires,” Keegan mused knowingly.

“What other vampires?” Mary questioned with fear in her voice.

“Yeah?” Patricia quickly supported Mary’s inquiry.

“How do you think Tony became a vampire?” Lola questioned with a hint of sarcasm.

“You think Tony is one of those four bodies?” Mary asked fretfully.

“That explains why he hasn’t called,” Lola calmly returned.

“And the count is right,” Keegan supported, “Tony, Charlie, Ben and Malcolm were in that building.”

“You think they’re hunting us?” Patricia asked Lola with a look of astonishment.

Lola was too busy considering that very question to answer it. She turned away from Patricia to minimize her distraction while she was thinking.

“Maybe they don’t know about us,” Mary nervously suggested to Patricia.

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Lola mused aloud while she continued considering another thought. “They found Tony and Jerry. I’m willing to bet they know we exist even if they don’t know who we are.”

“If that’s the case, then I say we find these fuckers and kill them first,” Patricia spoke out with bombast and bluster.

“Yeah, I’m with you, babe,” Keegan softly supported while he pondered. “But I think the hard part of that will be finding them.”

“Maybe not,” Lola spoke up as she continued to look away from the group. “I think all we have to do is ask her,” she tentatively continued while pointing toward the television. 

The television was continuing to display the news, but the sound was muted. A video of Cassidy arresting Kathryn Dryden was being broadcasted, and the news program was replaying the images of that event over and over from multiple angles. The name Detective Cassidy Tremaine was prominently captioned below the news feed.

“Who is she?” Patricia asked with insistence.

Lola and Keegan used the next half hour to explain to Mary and Patricia everything they knew about Tony McGuire’s transition from human to vampire and the people involved in that event. By the end of the half hour, they were through explaining and responding to all the questions it produced from Mary and Patricia. The sun was still below the horizon, but the sky was much brighter. Lola knew that they were all ready to sleep through the day and conserve their energies. Lola decided to give Paula a call and update her on their situation and plans, assuming she was still awake. To Lola’s surprise, her cellphone picked up after two rings. She quickly learned from Paula that Donny was still in transition. Lola advised her that Tony was no longer a worry and that she, Kenneth and Donny needed to stay there for the day.

“I’ll come by this evening and bring you up to speed then, okay?”

Paula agreed to Lola’s instruction and disconnected the call. Lola had just turned her attention back to Mary, Keegan and Patricia when the landline telephone rang. They were all astonished by the sudden early morning call, and Mary jumped slightly. After a pause to be astonished, Mary picked up the telephone.

“Mary, I need your help,” said the voice on the other end of Mary’s landline connection.

“It’s Sarah,” Mary whispered to the others in the room with her hand over the microphone.

Lola quickly sidled next to Mary and started listening for Sarah’s end of the conversation as best she could.

“Where are you, Sarah?” Mary asked after removing her hand from the microphone.

“I’m at the house of Kenneth’s friend, and I think we killed them,” Sarah whimpered through the telephone connection.

“She thinks she killed someone,” Sarah reported to Lola, Keegan and Patricia with her hand over the microphone.

“Oh, Christ,” Lola complained with an exasperated shake of her head. “Ask her when?”

Mary relayed the question to Sarah.

“Just now,” Sarah answered in a panicked voice. “We were so hungry and—and Kimberly kept asking us to turn her—and we were so hungry. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Who’s the other person?” Mary sharply asked.

“It’s Beau, Kimberly’s son,” Sarah answered with a hint of terror in her voice. “We couldn’t stop ourselves.”

“Sarah,” Mary yelled into the telephone. “Feed them your blood. Cut yourself, or bite into your palms, but you must feed your blood into their mouths to turn them. Do it now.”

“Okay, yeah—yeah,” Sarah responded in a huff.

A silence followed Sarah’s acknowledgement. Mary, Lola, Keegan and Patricia waited for Sarah to come back to the phone.

“We did it,” Sarah excitedly declared after a long pause. “What now?”

“Sarah, this is Lola. I’m a friend of Mary’s,” Lola quickly announced into the phone after snatching it away from Mary. “It’s still too early to tell if they’re dead or alive. But if you gave them your blood then there’s a good chance they’ll wake up tonight or tomorrow morning. So, this is what I need you to do, stay where you are and get some rest. Mary and I will come by this evening, and we’ll see what’s what then. And Sarah, I need you to not kill anyone else,” she spoke with emphasis. “Is that understood.”

“Yes,” Sarah anxiously agreed.

“Good, now give me the address there.”

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

It was shortly after 10am Tuesday when Ryan, Alexandra, Ronald, Brooke, _Stefan_ , _Helga_ , _Petru_ , _Nadja_ and David _(Cristiãn)_ assembled inside the Cavern Nightclub to discuss the events of the day before. The meeting was called by _Stefan_. He wanted to know what all had been done and what else needed to be done, and he wanted everyone to get their marching orders at the same time and as soon as possible. _Stefan_ decided that waiting for night was not an option.

Long before they arrived at the Cavern, they all had learned that Tony McGuire was dead. That was information that David _(Cristiãn)_ , _Nadja_ and _Petru_ knew and shared with the others during the night. What they did not know were the names and numbers of any other newborn vampires that might be out there, and they did not know what the authorities had gleaned from the remains of yesterday’s activities. To acquire as much public information as they could, that was available, they were all sitting in David’s _(Cristiãn)_ office and watching the news on the large screen TV on the wall opposite the desk in the room.

_Newscaster: “In a dramatic showdown outside of a Jersey City Rodeway Inn, New York City socialite Kathryn Dryden, the wife of multimillionaire James Dryden, was arrested at gunpoint along with a Karl Volker. The arresting officer at the scene was NYPD Detective Cassidy Tremaine—the same Detective Tremaine who shot and killed the Greenbelt Nine murderer. The moment of Kathryn Dryden’s arrest was captured by the smartphone cameras of multiple bystanders. In this video, Detective Tremaine is on the right, and you can see Kathryn Dryden here in the foreground in this video. She’s the female wearing the baseball cap, and here she is again pointing a gun at Karl Volker. Multiple witnesses to this event have reported that Kathryn Dryden accused Karl Volker of being her husband’s killer. We don’t know much about Mr. Volker at this time, but what we do know is that he was registered at the inn under the name Steve Babcock and that he’s being held on suspicion of murder. We’ve also learned that Kathryn Dryden is also being held on suspicion of murder. We’re still waiting for the Jersey City Police Department and the NYPD to give us details regarding the arrests of Karl Volker and Kathryn Dryden and the roll that New York City’s own, Detective Cassidy Tremaine, played in their apprehension.”_

The video of the arrest played on for several more seconds. There was very little sound to be heard because of the distance between the camera phones and subjects who were being recorded. The scene was shown several times and from multiple angles.

“It seems your Cassidy had a busy night, _Cristiãn_ ,” _Stefan_ mused with a smile.

“She’s not my Cassidy,” David _(Cristiãn)_ corrected.

“You say that like it’s a good thing,” _Stefan_ grumbled back. “If this newborn problem gets out of hand, Cassidy Tremaine will be our biggest problem.”

“I am not going to compel Cassidy,” David _(Cristiãn)_ mildly advised. “And I won’t let anyone else do it either.”

There were smirks, smiles and chuckles around the room in response to David’s _(Cristiãn)_ declaration.

_Newscaster: “In other news, a pair of mysterious fires and several deaths occurred yesterday evening in Queens. A commercial building under renovation went up in flames yesterday afternoon. The bodies of four men were found inside the structure along with a large quantity of cocaine in the building’s basement. The names of the four men have not been given to us yet, and we are hearing that the police are still trying to ID three of the men. We’re also just now learning that the owner of the building is not one of the victims. The body of Jeremiah Kingston, the owner of that commercial property, was found by firefighters when they responded to a fire at his home just over an hour after the fire at his commercial property. The NYPD and the FDNY have yet to give any official information about the fires other than to say they look to be suspicious. In other news…”_

In response to a gesture from _Stefan_ , David _(Cristiãn)_ used his remote to mute the sound coming from the television.

“So, do we know anything about these female newborns?” _Stefan_ asked while looking around the room.

“We know they have to be someone close to McGuire or this Jeremiah person,” Brooke said after a short silence. “All we have to do is find out who that someone is.”

Brooke was speaking to something that she knew they all knew. It was almost second nature for a newborn vampire to choose a mate. It was commonly held among the Dacia Vampires that no one would choose to travel through eternity alone. It was especially true among vampires because of the intensity of the attachment that was only possible among their kind. They also knew that relationships with mortals were always short lived and painful in the end.

“There were three other men in that commercial building,” Ryan quickly added. “We don’t know who they are.”

“We do know the names of two them,” _Nadja_ corrected, “Charlie Panko and Ben Dalby.”

“Cassidy told you that?” _Stefan_ quickly questioned.

“Yeah,” _Nadja_ answered without hesitation. “She didn’t know who the fourth guy was.”

“Well, she’ll just have to find out,” _Helga_ quickly asserted.

“Okay then,” _Stefan_ agreed with a nod. “We know what…”

Before _Stefan_ could not finish his statement before David’s _(Cristiãn)_ cellphone began ringing. All eyes turned to David as he retrieved his cellphone from his suit-coat pocket and looked at the display.

“Cassidy,” David _(Cristiãn)_ announced as he flagged the cellphone for all to see.

“Put it on speaker,” _Stefan_ instructed.

David _(Cristiãn)_ did as he was instructed and set the cellphone down as he spoke.

“Good morning…”

“You set fire to the house?” Cassidy loudly questioned before David _(Cristiãn)_ could finish his greeting.

“I did that,” _Stefan_ loudly spoke from his seat to the left front of David’s _(Cristiãn)_ desk.

“Who’s that?” Cassidy quickly queried.

“I’m not alone,” David _(Cristiãn)_ craftily reported.

“Who’s there?” Cassidy asked with curiosity.

David _(Cristiãn)_ paused to consider his answer.

“All the usual faces,” David _(Cristiãn)_ artfully reported after the pause.

Cassidy paused to consider what to say next. She was angry, and she wanted to express it. She was prepared to restrain herself while speaking to David _(Cristiãn)_ , but she felt no such compulsion for the others, and it was that release that was confusing her at that moment. Cassidy knew the vampires did not like speaking freely over telephones, and it was that concern that was now controlling her.

“That was dangerous,” Cassidy grumbled through the cellphone. “People could have gotten hurt.”

“Before leaving I notified the appropriate—people—so that the fire could be put out quickly,” _Stefan_ calmly countered.

Cassidy suspected that _Stefan_ was trying to assure her that precautions were taken to protect the lives and property of neighbors in Jeremiah’s community, but his assurance failed with her. Cassidy was made more infuriated by the attempt. She wanted to vent her anger at _Stefan_ with unchecked verbiage, and it took more than a little restraint to stop herself and turn to another subject.

“You could have been seen, and you were almost certainly captured on D-A-S (Domain Awareness System),” Cassidy angrily yelled into her home phone.

“Detective,” _Stefan_ calmly spoke with exasperation in his tone. “I doubt that. I made my call from the house phone moments before I—lit the match, and we procured the assistance of a marshmallow head for transportation to and from the house.”

“Marshmallow head?” Cassidy sharply questioned without thinking.

“Yes,” _Helga_ loudly returned, “someone like you.”

Cassidy paused to comprehend that they were speaking about a mortal that they compelled to help them. As she pondered, she could hear laughter of several others who were there with David _(Cristiãn)_.

“He found our request compelling,” _Stefan_ added seconds later.

More and louder laughter began coming through the earpiece of Cassidy’s home phone.

“You should not have done that,” Cassidy warned angrily.

“Well, I thought that was the better option to a thousand more people, like us, crawling all over your city,” _Stefan_ returned with defiance.

Cassidy intuitively knew what _Stefan_ was implying. The words he chose to use to defend his actions were her own words being thrown back at her. She took a moment to consider just how angry she should be. The fact that _Stefan_ ’s actions might keep humans in the dark about vampires did not escape her understanding, but she soon remembered that there were more rogue vampires out there.

“There are still more out there,” Cassidy fiercely asserted.

“Yes, there are,” _Stefan_ loudly agreed. “And we need you to give us everything you can on the friends and close relationships of the men you torched yesterday.”

Cassidy took a moment to fume over _Stefan_ ’s request and the verbiage he chose to express it. Then she hung up the phone to avoid hearing anything more from him.

“I think that went well,” _Helga_ declared cheerfully.

Again, there were smiles and chuckles from everyone in the group accept David _(Cristiãn)_. The mirth trailed off after a few seconds and they returned to the subject of the unknown newborns. They quickly agreed that Cassidy was their best bet at finding out who the other newborns were, and they would likely double in number by the time she did. To give themselves their best chance at finding the newborns quickly, they all agreed that someone needed to stay up for the day and monitor the news channels. It was their hope that the police would identify the fourth man and maybe even some personal information about all four. _Stefan_ shortly assigned Ryan, Alexandra and David _(Cristiãn)_ to the task, then he and the others trekked off for their homes to sleep away the remains of the day.

The Cavern Nightclub was considered an ideal place to spend the day. The only windows on the ground floor were out back in the kitchen, and the buildings just behind blocked them from direct sunlight. David (Cristian) continued his function as host and supplied cube-cut, raw meat and a pitcher of water and glasses for his guest to snack on. Then he took off his suit coat and tie, rolled up his sleeves and went to the kitchen to attend to an oven and some plumbing that were in need of maintenance. He had been in the kitchen for nearly six hours when his cellphone started to ring, but he was too far away to hear it even with his vampire hearing.

David _(Cristiãn)_ had left his cellphone on his desk in the office along with his suit coat and tie. He was not expecting any calls of consequence, and he trusted Ryan and Alexandra to answer on his behalf. He kept few secrets with the other Dacia Vampires, and the same was true in reverse. That mindset was born out of more than 200 years of hiding from vampire hunters. Their patience with each other could be thread thin at times, but the bond between them was stronger than what any mortal could imagine.

“Hello,” Alexandra greeted into David’s _(Cristiãn)_ cellphone.

“Hi, I’m calling for Cassidy. Is she there?” The voice on the other end of the call responded back.

Alexandra was confused and surprised by this call. She had no idea why anyone would be calling for Cassidy at David’s _(Cristiãn)_ cellphone, but she was eager and determined to find out.

“Cassidy Tremaine?” Alexandra pleasantly returned in the hope of winning the caller’s confidence.

“Yes, she’s my daughter,” Margaret announced eagerly.

“Oh, Mrs. Tremaine—Margaret,” Alexandra enthusiastically countered. “Hi, I’ve heard Cassidy speak of you on several occasions.”

“Hi, who am I speaking with?” Margaret asked out of curiosity.

“Oh, I’m Alex, it’s short for Alexandra,” Alexandra answered with a grin. “I work for David Burrell in his club.”

“Oh, so this is David’s phone number?” Margaret queried with a whole new level of enthusiasm.

“Yes,” Alexandra concurred with a smile. “He’s in the kitchen doing some maintenance on one of the ovens, but Cassidy isn’t here right now. She might come in later though.”

“Oh, is she there often?” Margaret fished for information.

“Oh, yeah,” Alexandra happily returned. “But that’s to be expected,” she dangled out for a response.

“Why is that to be expected?” Margaret asked with much curiosity.

“Well, I was just saying because of the way they are,” Alexandra intentionally teased hesitantly. 

“How are they?” Margaret asked, now intrigued.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Alexandra returned after a deliberate pause. “I thought you might know, and I was hoping you would tell me.”

“Tell you what?” Margaret asked in nearly a commanding tone.

Once again Alexandra paused to taunt Margaret’s curiosity.

“Okay, you see, we have a bet going on,” Alexandra began to explain with a confessional tone. “Some of us here at the club think that the boss and Dt. Tremaine are engaged, and the others say no way. And I was hoping you would tell me who’s right.”

“Why are they—why are some of his employees saying no way?” Margaret asked in confused.

“It’s just that everybody used to think that the boss was a bachelor-for-life kind of guy,” Alexandra mused indecisively. “But now, nobody knows for sure because of the way he is with Dt. Tremaine. I mean we’ve never seen him like this before,” she spoke with intrigue and excitement in her voice. “I think he’s in love,” she finished in a whisper.

“Is that right?” Margaret mused.

“And it looks like she feels the same way,” Alexandra enthusiastically added.

“Really,” Margaret responded with a smile in her voice.

“So, the boss is up to his elbows in grease right now,” Alexandra casually explained. “Can I have him call you back in a few minutes when he’s cleaned up?”

“Well, what I really need to do is speak with Cassidy,” Margaret answered in a ponderous tone. “She lost her cellphone the other day, and I haven’t been able to reach her at the work.”

“I hope there’s nothing wrong,” Alexandra returned with feigned concern.

“Oh, no, no,” Margaret quickly dismissed. “Stacy’s grandmother just went into the hospital. Stacy is Cassidy’s babysitter. She’s asking to leave early, and I have a retirement dinner to go to. I need Cassidy to deal with that.”

“Oh,” Alexandra acknowledged. “Do you want David to call you back?”

“No,” Margaret returned with a sigh. “Just tell him to pass on my message to Cassidy if he hears from her.”

“Oh, I will,” Alexandra eagerly promised. “Bye,” she finished with a wide smile.

Ryan had been listening to the whole conversation. He could see Alexandra’s delight with something she gleaned from her talk with Margaret and the mischievous scheming that started when she hung up the telephone.

“What is your minx brain plotting?” Ryan asked suspiciously.

“I’m going to do Cassidy a favor,” Alexandra impishly spoke.

“She’s not going to like it whatever it is,” Ryan warned.

“You don’t know that,” Alexandra countered with a mix of defiance and reservation. “She might like it,” she continued with a smile. “We might even become friends,” she finished with an optimistic flair.

Ryan gave Alexandra a disapproving look and a disbelieving shake of his head.

“I wouldn’t bet on it.”

_~~~~~Line Break~~~~~_

It was 11:52am when Cassidy walked through the front door of the 13th Precinct. From the onset, all eyes turned toward her and followed her until she was out of view. When she entered her squad room, the background noise of people moving about and talking came to a stop. The room seemed to freeze in place with all eyes turned toward her. Lt. Laughton appeared to be the only person within the workspace who was still in motion. Cassidy could see through the window of his office that he was speaking with someone on the telephone while looking at her. Cassidy hesitated just inside the doorway to note all the attention. She then began moving through the room with nervous apprehension. Vera watched her pass her desk with a hostile glare. The other detectives noticed her with amazement and disbelief. The stares came to a stop when she got to her desk, and everyone went back to the work they were doing before she came in.

Cassidy had made herself comfortable, turned on her computer and was just starting to look through her email when Lt. Laughton walked out of his office. His manner was stern, and it was immediately clear that he was coming to her. Cassidy braced herself for whatever was about to be said.

“You’re wanted in the Mayor’s office,” Lt. Laughton announced as he stopped at Cassidy’s desk.

“Now?” Cassidy asked with a look of surprise.

“Yes, now,” Lt. Laughton sternly returned.

Cassidy quickly went to work undoing the opening of her day. When she got up from her desk, several seconds later, she hurried out of the squad room and building under the gaze of the same officers who watched her come in.

Cassidy was slightly perplexed by the call to the Mayor’s office. Without her cellphone, she felt uncomfortable being so disconnected from the people she trusted to watch out for her children. She originally planned to stop at a wireless store on her way to work to replace the one she lost, but she was late leaving home that morning, which made her change that plan. Her new plan was to run down to the closest wireless store for her carrier at her earliest opportunity. She wanted to get a replacement in her hands before Cynthia and John got out of school. She was not expecting any calls concerning them before then, and she knew her desk phone would suffice in the interim; but as she hurried toward the Mayor’s office, she was forced to come up with another plan: she would stop by a wireless store on her way back to the precinct from the Mayor’s office. Three hours later, Cassidy concluded the new plan was not going to play out either.

Cassidy spent the remainder of the afternoon inside City Hall. She was photographed with the Mayor, the Police Commissioner and other high-ranking city, county and state officials. She answered questions for reporters and listened to speeches by politicians. When she was not doing something before an audience, a bank of microphones and an array of cameras, she was waiting to do one of those things. It was a quarter past five in the afternoon when she had both the time and presence of mind to call her home.

“Hi,” the voice on the other side of Cassidy’s call sang through the connection. “This is the Tremaine residence. How can I help you?”

Cassidy was immediately thrown off balance by the voice that just answered her home phone. The person she heard sounded nothing like Stacy, the babysitter for Cynthia and John.

“Who is this?” Cassidy questioned with surprise.

“Oh, hi Cassidy,” the voice returned with excitement. “It’s me, Alexandra.”

Cassidy was instantly put into a state of shock. She recognized the voice as Alexandra’s at the start, but she initially dismissed the idea that it was her. Hearing Alexandra confirm that she was inside her home sent a shock wave of terror through Cassidy’s body.

“What are you doing there? Where’s Stacy?” Cassidy demanded.

“Stacy had a family emergency, and she had to leave early,” Alexandra explained as cheerfully as she could. “But don’t worry. I’m here. Everything is okay.”

“But what are you doing there?” Cassidy nearly screamed into the telephone of a vacant office. 

“Oh. Well, Stacy called your mother when she couldn’t reach you, and then Margaret called _Cristiãn_ and got me instead,” Alexandra explained with impish delight.

“I want you out of there,” Cassidy screamed into the phone.

“I can’t leave Cynthia and John alone,” Alexandra replied with childish surprise. “When will you be home? Can I cook something for you? I can cook—a little.” 

Cassidy concluded that there was nothing she could do about Alexandra’s presence inside her home from where she was at that moment and slammed down the phone. Leaving Cynthia and John alone in the house was not an option for Cassidy and sending her mother to take over was problematic. She had decided to install Stacy in the house so that her mother and father could attend a retirement dinner for an old friend. She had no reason to think she would be late getting home that evening, so she told Margaret to take Cynthia and John home after school instead of dropping them off at Valerie’s house and that she would arrive within the hour. To fill the gap between Margaret and Cassidy’s departure and arrival, Stacy agreed to stay with the children as long as four hours, if necessary.

Cassidy set off for her home in a hurry. She allowed nothing to stop or delay her exit. Leaving a full two hours later than usual, her drive home placed her squarely in the height of the afternoon rush. She arrived outside her home frustrated and in a rush to get inside. She jumped out of her car and ran to the front door with her keys in hand. She shoved the key into the lock, opened the door, sprinted three strides into the living room and came to an abrupt stop.

“Hi, mommy,” Cynthia and John cheerfully greeted at nearly the same moment.

Cynthia and John were seated on the floor at the coffee table with the board game Guess Who in front of them. Alexandra was seated on the couch on the opposite side of the coffee table. At first sight nothing looked amiss and everyone appeared to be in good spirits.

“We’re playing Guess Who,” Alexandra announced with a bright smile. “It’s harder than it looks. Cynthia has beaten me twice already, and John beat me once.”

“Yeah, I won,” John gleefully concurred.

Cassidy ignored Alexandra’s explanation of their activity and her children’s enthusiastic endorsement of it. After taking a few seconds to give her kids and the room a quick examination from a distance, Cassidy began gesturing to her children.

“Come here,” Cassidy called as she beckoned with her hand.

Cynthia and John quickly got up from the floor and hurried to Cassidy. As they rose so did Alexandra with a smile on her face. The instant Cynthia and John were within reach of Cassidy, she examined their necks, arms, legs and torsos.

“What’s wrong, mommy?” Cynthia asked as Cassidy quickly adjusted her clothing to look at her skin.

“Nothing, baby,” Cassidy returned as she continued to examine her body.

It only took a few seconds for Cassidy to complete the examination of her kids. When she was finished, she ordered them up to their rooms and into their pajamas. As they raced off up the stairs, Cassidy turned her gaze toward Alexandra with an angry scowl across her face.

“That hurt,” Alexandra dejectedly whined in response to Cassidy’s body search of her children.

“Get out,” Cassidy yelled without a thought for Alexandra’s remark, pointing toward the front door.

“Fine,” Alexandra returned with a pout and while walking toward the door. “See if I ever do you a favor again.”

Cassidy followed Alexandra to the door, shut and locked it when she was on the other side of it and then went to the window to watch her leave the vicinity.


End file.
